


La Flûte Noire

by arakachi



Category: Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù, 魔道祖师 | Módào Zǔshī (Cartoon)
Genre: Cinderella AU, M/M, Prince Wangji, Royal Lan family, Wuxian is the servant/semi-adopted son of the noble Jiang family, background Jiāng Yànlí/Jīn Zixuān, loosely
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2020-03-07 01:12:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18862717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arakachi/pseuds/arakachi
Summary: Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom, a grand three-night masquerade ball was to be held. It was the coming of age celebration of the youngest prince, and word quickly spread of the extravagance to be expected. There would be live music played by an orchestra of the highest skill, food cooked by the top chefs in the land, and exquisite wine gathered from around the world.Wei Wuxian, servant of the noble Jiang family, was forbidden from attending this event. That wasn't going to stop him from going, though; he'd do anything for a good cup of wine. (And, maybe, for a certain stoically handsome, somewhat familiar man he can't seem to leave alone.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I got into MXTX novels and the dams of creativity burst open to flood my google docs with this fic. This is a loose Cinderella AU, imagine the setting as some weird mishmash of MDZS-period China and 1800s France and... whatever the hell else I've thrown in for the aesthetic. Hope you enjoy! :) Comments and feedback greatly appreciated!

Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom, a grand three-night masquerade ball was to be held. It was the coming of age celebration of the youngest prince, and word quickly spread of the extravagance to be expected. There would be live music played by an orchestra of the highest skill, food cooked by the top chefs in the land, and exquisite wine gathered from around the world.

When he heard about the wine, Wei Wuxian set his mind on going.

In the noble Jiang family, Wei Wuxian was somewhere between a servant and adopted son. The children of the family considered him their brother, and the father Jiang Fengmian treated him like a son, having taken him in after his parents’ death. But the mother, Yu Ziyuan, made sure he knew his place as an outsider.

“You are forbidden from attending! What would people say if they knew we allowed a mere servant to attend such a prestigious affair? The name of our family would be soiled because of you!” she spat when he asked, leaving no room for negotiations. Jiang Fengmian could only shrug in the face her ferocity. 

So now, Wei Wuxian rolled across the floor, loudly lamenting. “Ahhh, this is unfair! This is so unfair!”

“Be careful not to bump into the table, A-xian,” Jiang Yanli kindly warned from where she sat sewing at a safe distance. Wei Wuxian changed tactics, latching on to the leg of the stern boy sitting at said table.

“A-cheng, convince Madam Yu to let me go! I won’t embarrass the family, I won’t even speak to anyone. I just want to taste the wine, and then I’ll leave!” He hung on even as Jiang Cheng tried to shake him off, scowling.

“Shut up. Your mere presence is embarrassing. Knowing you, you’d end up hitting on people out of your league and making a fool of yourself,” he snorted, successfully pushing Wei Wuxian away. He couldn’t quite argue, so he lay flat on the ground, staring back at Jiang Yanli with a pitiful expression.

“Shijie, I would expect this kind of treatment from him, but even you refuse to speak up for me! Why are you being so cruel?!”

“Hey! Don’t you try to guilt her!” Jiang Cheng snapped, but Jiang Yanli stood up and knelt by Wei Wuxian, spreading the cloth she’d been sewing across his shoulders to check measurements.

“Truthfully, I think it would be nice for him to come, but mother would never give her approval,” she said, putting a pin in the fabric. “A-xian, if you listen to me, I believe I will be able to sneak you in.”

Wei Wuxian shot up instantly, pulling his sister into a hug with a big smile and glistening eyes. “Shijie, you’re the best! I owe you my life! I’ll do anything, I’ll give you my firstborn child and let you use me as a footrest!”

Jiang Yanli laughed and patted his back. “There’s no need, A-xian. Here; how do you like this color for your robes?” She held up the cloth she was sewing, a flowing dark red fabric, and Wei Wuxian cooed his approval. Jiang Cheng looked on, nose wrinkled in pure disgust.

“Why the fuck are you spoiling him so much? If mother and father find out, I’m not covering for you,” he said, but Jiang Yanli only smiled.

“A-Xian has been kept in for so long; mother's been so stern with him lately. It's only right that he should be able to come out with us once in a while. He's not simply a servant-- he's our brother. Besides, it's a masquerade ball, so as long as he wears a mask, no one will know he's there. You won't tell on us, will you, A-Cheng?” she asked sweetly. Jiang Cheng crossed his arms and turned away, grumbling. 

And so, Jiang Yanli sewed Wei Wuxian robes for the ball in secret, and he managed to make himself a mask. In the end... 

“You look like you're going to this ball to murder someone,” Jiang Cheng said, appraising his brother's attire on the day of the event. The robes were beautiful, with black and scarlet fabrics that flowed elegantly around him, tailored with patience to fit perfectly. Even Jiang Cheng had to admit (albeit begrudgingly) that he looked nice. However, Wei Wuxian had elected to put together a simple, shiny black mask with a crow-like beak, causing his appearance to be something akin to a specter of death.

“I do not! Gothic fashion is quite in now, you know. Besides, as long as no one knows it's me, who cares how I look?” Wei Wuxian argued. Jiang Cheng could only sigh deeply and try not to get a headache. He'd long given up on convincing his siblings to forget the idea, and now his focus was on ensuring they didn't fail miserably and embarrass him. 

“You look lovely, A-xian,” Jiang Yanli praised, before her expression turned more serious. “Now, it’s very important that you follow the rules we agreed on. Can you tell me what they are?”

While Wei Wuxian was notoriously forgetful, especially when it came to rules, these were ones he had been sure to memorize. He held up one finger at a time as he recited: “One, avoid anyone I see from the Jiang house, and don’t talk to them under any circumstances. Two, don’t make too much noise or cause a scene. And three, most importantly, I have to leave before midnight, and get home before Madam Yu realizes I’m not there.”

Jiang Yanli nodded as he finished, satisfied, but Jiang Cheng crossed his arms with a snort. “I still think we should ban him from talking to anyone. That annoyingly shrill voice is too recognizable.” 

“No way! I’ll just _talk like this_ , and no one will know it’s me.” Wei Wuxian pitched his voice down as he spoke, just enough that it wasn’t comically fake. Jiang Cheng’s eyebrow twitched.

“Fine. Whatever. Just don’t flirt with anyone. No one else in this kingdom is as shameless as you, so you’d be found out immediately.”

Wei Wuxian squawked indignantly, and Jiang Yanli moved between them before they could start fighting, patting both her brothers on the arm. “Well, as long as you behave yourself and follow the rules, it should be fine. Let’s go get ready, A-cheng.”

She pulled Jiang Cheng away, leaving Wei Wuxian to busy himself with flute practice while he waited until he could go. Madam Yu didn’t care for the flute and even less for hearing Wei Wuxian play one, so he knew she wouldn’t come bother him if she could help it while he was practicing. After the arguing over last-minute preparations and door slamming quieted in the hall, Wei Wuxian knew the family had left, and after waiting for a bit longer he quietly flipped out the window with well-practiced grace.

Of course, this wasn’t Wei Wuxian’s first time sneaking out when he wasn’t supposed to. But the stakes were a bit higher. If he managed to piss someone off, it wouldn’t reflect only on him, but the Jiang family’s reputation would suffer. Despite his natural tendency to break the rules, he knew he’d have to fit in this time. Shouldn’t be too hard; after all, he was only there to taste the wine, party a little, and leave.

The late January air was cool and quiet, and the sun had set by the time Wei Wuxian arrived at the palace, gray clouds dotting a cobalt sky. The building itself was impressive and sleek, but modest in its grandiosity without much external decor. Such was the way of the royal family; as long as they had ruled, they had been known for minimalistic elegance, which made them quite popular among the common folk who didn’t want their tax money going towards extravagance they’d never get to taste. The occasional grand ball was the exception to their frugality, and largely for diplomatic purposes. Wei Wuxian could hardly care less for purpose, as long as he could get a good drink from it.

After being patted down by guards to ensure he wasn’t carrying weapons, Wei Wuxian was let into the grand hall. The ballroom was smooth white all around, marble pillars and cloud patterns carved into the walls in keeping with the simple elegance of the palace. There were no invitations to this ball, one meant not for foreign relations but a local celebration; so long as you looked and behaved properly, you would be allowed in. Wei Wuxian knew how to act like a noble, and wondered if he wasn’t the only servant sneaking in. Of course, as good as you can act, most servants would have a hard time getting hold of appropriate quality attire as well. Mentally thanking his Shijie again, Wei Wuxian wove into the crowd, beelining for the promised wine.

After a few hours, Wei Wuxian had sampled every type of wine there and was pretty sure his tongue could no longer taste the difference between them. But one thing was for sure; as promised, the drinks were very high quality! The music was elegant but lively, and Wei Wuxian danced around a little, flirted with a couple of girls in pink gowns (after all, Jiang Cheng hadn’t made it a _rule_ not to flirt, and Wei Wuxian only planned on listening to Jiang Yanli anyway) and pretended to be very rich and fancy while chatting with some noblemen, voice kept at a deeper register. He figured he was doing a pretty good job at blending in. Maybe he wasn’t the most _formal_ guest, but so far he’d managed not to offend anyone.

The Jiang family was fairly easy to avoid. While it was a masquerade ball, that was mainly just a fun gimmick; most people dropped coy hints at their identity or stated it outright, and a lot of families wore specific colors or styles to distinguish themselves. The Jiang family was one of these, all dressed in elegant, traditional purple robes and masks with intricate lotus flower designs. At the first flash of purple in his vision, Wei Wuxian would slip away to avoid any contact and find something new to do.

As the evening wore on, Wei Wuxian ended up in a tricky spot, with lotus masks on every side of him including Madam Yu herself just a few yards away. To escape he slipped out onto a balcony at the edge of the ballroom. He immediately shivered in the cold air, but he didn’t mind too much. The room inside was starting to get stuffy and hot, and while he liked crowds, he liked them less when they were so formal. In the stiff temperature drop of a January night, Wei Wuxian was fairly certain he’d be safe from the Jiangs out here, and his sigh of relief curled like smoke in the air.

As he turned, however, he realized through the misty breath in front of his vision that he wasn’t alone on the balcony. There was another man there looking up at the sky, tall and poised, in fine white and blue robes with simple but refined beauty. The light of a full moon peered through the clouds and seemed to make his long, dark hair shimmer. Inadvertently, Wei Wuxian’s breath hitched, and the man turned around. His upper face was covered in a mask matching his robes, with a finely engraved cloud design, but his lips were visible and didn’t give any hint of emotion.

Wei Wuxian stepped forward, offering a smile and wave in greeting. “Hello! It’s really cold out here, haha,” he said casually, but remembered that this was a formal event and coughed into his hand. “Ahem, what brings you to this balcony, esteemed sir?” Smooth, polite. The man’s lips thinned slightly, but he didn’t move away. 

After a moment, a response came. “...Fresh air.”

“Ah, me too! It’s hard to breathe in there, huh?” After receiving a response, Wei Wuxian dropped the formal speech again, though he still spoke in a lower pitch. He moved closer to the balcony man, leaning on the railing next to him. “There are a lot of people! It’s a nice party, but it’s so _white_ in there, it’s almost blinding.”

“...Mm. Bright,” the man said, appearing to regard Wei Wuxian with some level of caution. This did not deter him, and he only grinned, suddenly determined to get this new conversation partner talking.

“I bet you don’t like crowds, right?”

The man glanced away, taking a moment to respond again. “No.” His voice was low and level. Wei Wuxian moved a little closer, unbothered by the fact that the man probably came out here to be alone. 

“Me either! Well, actually, I do, usually, but not this kind of crowd. There are so many rules and formalities and I’m not even--” he coughed, catching himself. For some reason, he almost forgot that this person was probably someone he was supposed to be minding those formalities with. Maybe he’d had a little too much wine. “I mean, the weight of expectation bares heavy on my shoulders... so it is important to find space to breathe.” he nodded solemnly, like a noble young master who didn’t sneak into a royal ball just to drink.

The man turned his head towards him again and through the holes in his mask, Wei Wuxian saw a pair of light, almost golden eyes. There was something a little familiar about them. And something unequivocally beautiful. “Mm,” the replying hum came, a soft sound of affirmation, and an unexpected continuation followed; “Heavy. For me, too.”

For some reason, Wei Wuxian felt like he’d heard something he wasn’t supposed to, and suddenly found it hard to breathe. It must have been the air on the balcony, constricting his lungs so often. After staring at those eyes for a bit too long, the corners of his mouth curled up, and he let out a laugh.

“Aha, I bet! There’s a lot of pressure on us young men, huh? Say, have I met you before? You seem familiar, but I don’t remember where I would have met someone like you,” Wei Wuxian rambled off before he could stop himself. What ‘someone like you’ was, he didn’t voice, though he thought; handsome, stoic-looking, with an aura of regality and a faint scent of sandalwood that carried over in the chilled breeze.

The man tilted his head slightly. The expression that Wei Wuxian could see didn’t change much, but his brows appeared to furrow slightly, and Wei Wuxian immediately regretted asking. This was a dangerous topic of conversation; if he was asking after others’ identities, his own was more likely to be questioned. With another laugh, he changed track to the first thing he could think of.

“Well, maybe I just feel like that because I’ve seen you in my dreams~” He punctuated with a wink, hoping his mask hid the cold sweat on his face. Apparently, flirting was his first panic instinct. Maybe Jiang Cheng was a little right about his shamelessness, but Wei Wuxian wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging that. 

The man stared at him, eyes widening only slightly in reaction. Wei Wuxian grinned nervously as the man started to move forward. Uh oh; looks like he might have angered him. Well, if there was anything Wei Wuxian was good at, it was running away from awkward situations. He chuckled and backed up, trying to make it seem natural.

“I’m joking, I’m joking. You just seem so stiff, I couldn’t help but tease you! I’ll give you some space, though. Enjoy the party!” He waved and quickly backed out of the balcony before he could offend the man any further. In the ballroom, he weaved into the safety of the crowd and made his way towards the exit. He’d probably stayed long enough; it was already past 11, and he had a curfew to make.

As Wei Wuxian stepped once more into the chilly night outside the castle, he lamented the lack of a carriage to take him home. At least he lived close enough to walk, but the cold air was no longer comforting against his skin. He thought again of golden eyes and a strange sense of familiarity that nagged at the back of his mind. Some mischievous fire was kindled inside him; the desire to find the man the next night welled up from somewhere in his stomach. Maybe it was risky, but he was more entertaining than anyone else Wei Wuxian had talked to that night. They hadn’t spoken much, but he seemed like an interesting person. He appeared formal, but his words were clipped; not impolite, but a welcome change of pace from the lavish praises and exaggerations of typical nobles ass-kissing each other. There had also been that moment of strange, raw honesty, which made Wei Wuxian feel something he couldn’t quite place. He usually didn’t like stuffy people, but something about this one was different. His reaction to flirting had been underwhelming, though. What could fluster that calm beauty, he wondered? He had two more nights to find out.

When the Jiang family arrived home, they found Wei Wuxian sound asleep, a perfect portrait of obedience. Only his siblings knew of the crimson robes and crow-beaked mask shoved haphazardly under the blankets, and the lingering scent of expensive wine on his breath.


	2. Chapter 2

“I still can't believe you danced with that peacock _twice,_ ” Jiang Cheng grumbled from where he sat on the edge of Jiang Yanli's bed, arms crossed. Wei Wuxian was cross-legged next to him, and in the reflection of his sister's mirror, he saw her frown.

“He's not that bad, A-cheng,” she said, smoothly gliding a brush through her silky hair without pause.

“Actually, I agree with him on this one,” Wei Wuxian chimed in. “Have you forgotten what happened just last year? It seems fishy that he's being so nice now.” It had been quite a scene; Jiang Yanli had long had a crush on the Jin family's Zixuan, but when she tried to pull him to the side at a gathering to confess, he loudly exclaimed his rejection, causing a ruckus that embarrassed Jiang Yanli and angered her brothers.

“A year is a long time for someone to change,” Jiang Yanli said softly. The resolute look in her eyes never wavered. “We've talked some since then, you know. I'm not naive enough to simply fall for him again, but he seems to be more down to earth now. He might actually be interested in me.”

“Or our mothers could be conspiring again,” Jiang Cheng said bluntly. “They were practically shoving you two at each other like they were playing with dolls. You don't have to just go along with whoever mother pairs you up with.”

This ball was a great chance for noble families to play matchmaker. It was rare that the palace would throw such a grand event open to the public, and every affluent family wanted to show their worth while attending. The 3-day timespan was enough to introduce their children to numerous suitors, ensuring that bonds could be built between potential pairs.

Jiang Yanli put her brush down with a light sigh. “I know you two are concerned for me, but I'm capable of taking care of myself. I won't let my feelings be toyed with, don't worry. You should be more worried about your own prospects.” She turned to them with a teasing smile. “A-xian, did you know A-cheng could not find a single girl willing to dance with him?”

Wei Wuxian immediately burst out laughing, shattering the fragile treaty he'd had with Jiang Cheng who smacked his leg with gritted teeth.

“Ahahaha! Ow, A-cheng! That hurts! It's because you're always so angry and mean like this that no one loves you!”

“SHUT UP! It's not my fault that no one has taste! None of them could match up to my standards, anyway!” While Jiang Cheng's expression was as angry as ever, there was an embarrassed flush on his cheeks, which just made Wei Wuxian laugh even harder.

“Sure, sure... _I_ danced with quite a few people, you know!” Wei Wuxian grinned proudly, and Jiang Cheng's scowl only deepened, twisting with different types of anger.

“You...! I told you not to flirt with anyone!”

“It's fine, it's fine! No one figured out who I was, and I didn't offend anyone. Ah...” he paused, thinking about the last person he'd spoken to. “Well, I don't _think_ I offended him, but there was this one nobleman...” 

Jiang Cheng's face turned purple, green, and white all in succession. “Wei Wuxian! Not only did you trounce around shamelessly, but you flirted with a _man_ in public? A _nobleman_?!”

Wei Wuxian raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? You know I flirt with _anyone_ pretty, A-cheng. Though it was kind of unintentional. No one saw me talking to him, anyway... actually, maybe you two know who he was? He seemed familiar, but I can’t figure out where I've met him before.”

“Oh? Was he someone from the Wen family, perhaps? Or the Nie family?” Jiang Yanli questioned. Wei Wuxian shook his head.

“I don't think so... he was wearing blue and white, with a cloud-patterned mask, but he had these light eyes that were like, pools of honey... he seemed really stoic but elegant and didn't speak much, so I bugged him a little. I don't think he minded, but when I flirted he didn't react too well so I ran away...” he trailed off, realizing both of his siblings were staring at him with wide eyes and open mouths. “What? Do we know him?”

“ _How. Are you. So. Fucking. Dumb._ ” Jiang Cheng spat out, pure disbelief changing his usual shout to a hoarse, angry whisper. Jiang Yanli coughed into her hand, blinking a few times.

“A-a-xian... um, the cloud masks are... a symbol of the Lan family,” she said, almost like it was painful. Oh. _Oh._ The _royal_ Lan family.

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian said.

“And, a stoic man with light-colored eyes... well, that sounds like...”

“You fucking. Flirted. With Prince Lan Wangji.” Jiang Cheng ground out. His fingers dug into his legs like he had to hold them back from strangling Wei Wuxian.

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian said again. “So I did.” He put his hand to his chin in thought. Did he recognize him because he was the prince? That would make sense, but it didn't feel right. Wei Wuxian didn't really pay attention to news about royalty, and he felt like he had met the man somewhere personally.

Well, he probably shouldn't be worrying about that right now. Jiang Cheng finally snapped at his seeming indifference, veins bulging on his forehead.

“ARE YOU _TRYING_ TO DIE?!” He yelled, and Wei Wuxian rolled off of Jiang Yanli's bed to evade any chance of physical attack. His Shijie came to the rescue, holding out her hands between them.

“Calm down, A-cheng. He didn't know who he was talking to, and he hasn't done anything bad,” she said, but Jiang Cheng wasn't having it.

“Anyone with eyes and a brain knows the fucking Lan family symbols! They're literally covering the fucking ballroom walls! _He flirted with a goddamn prince!_ ” Jiang Cheng's voice dropped in volume, unwilling to yell at his sister, but the seething anger pointed at Wei Wuxian didn't dissipate.

“What's done is done. He doesn't know who you are, right, A-xian?” Jiang Yanli asked, and Wei Wuxian rapidly shook his head.

“He doesn't know anything! I said he didn't react well, but it was more like he barely reacted at all, so it should be fine...”

Jiang Cheng's face rapidly changed colors again, and he squeezed his eyes shut, silently mouthing numbers as he counted in his head. It was an anger management technique Jiang Yanli had taught him, but Wei Wuxian was pretty sure he only utilized it when she was around. After a minute, he opened his eyes again and glared hard at Wei Wuxian, who hid himself the best he could behind his Shijie.

“If you talk to him again, or any Lan, you're a fucking dead man, Wei Ying,” Jiang Cheng growled. Then he turned and stomped out of the room, loudly muttering a few curses. Wei Wuxian breathed a sigh of relief once he was gone.

“He's just concerned about you, A-xian. He doesn't want you to be punished,” Jiang Yanli tried to comfort him, patting his head. He stood up and flopped back on the bed with a sigh. He knew that while that was a part of it, there was more to his brother's anger than simple protectiveness. He didn't really want to delve into the other aspects now, though. It was nice enough that Jiang Cheng wasn't going to burn his robes and prevent him from attending the next night of the ball.

“I know, I know. I'll stay out of trouble, I promise,” Wei Wuxian said, but he almost felt like biting his tongue. He _would_ do his best to stay out of trouble, but he didn't know if he could stay away from Prince Wangji.

There was something about the Prince that some part of him desperately wanted to discover. Some sort of memory he couldn't recollect. Wei Wuxian had always been bad with faces, especially when they were mostly hidden behind fancy masks. This was where his disregard for social status might get him into trouble, but he thought with confidence that, somehow, everything would be fine. 

Wei Wuxian was nothing if not confident, after all.

A few hard knocks at the door brought him out of his thoughts, and Jiang Yanli went to open it.

“Where is he?” Madam Yu's clipped voice asked, and the tone of barely concealed resentment made it clear who ‘he’ was. Wei Wuxian jumped to his feet and made it look like he was busy dusting out the curtains in Jiang Yanli's room with his sleeves. Jiang Yanli pointed to him, and Madan Yu's scowling face appeared as she stepped inside.

“Wei Ying! Stop bothering my children and make yourself useful. I want the floors scrubbed, dishes washed, and fireplaces cleaned by the time we arrive home!” As soon as she was done ordering Wei Wuxian around, Madam Yu left with a swish of her sleeves. Jiang Yanli closed the door again and gave him an apologetic smile.

“Mother’s in a bad mood today. She had another argument with father,” she explained, and Wei Wuxuan slumped his shoulders with a sigh.

By the time the Jiang family was heading out for the ball, Wei Wuxian had scrubbed the kitchen floor so thoroughly one could practically see their reflection in the wood. Lost in thought, he’d gone all-in with cleaning the room; not a spec of ash could be found in the wood stove, and the dishes were sparkling. However, because of that focus, he’d kind of forgotten to clean the rest of the house. Ah, well. He had a ball to get to. Seeing the state of the kitchen, Madam Yu couldn’t punish him too harshly for negligence, and he’d slacked off more than this in the past.

Quickly cleaning himself up as best he could, Wei Wuxian donned his robes and mask and snuck out once again. It was a clear night, stars brightly shining above as he made his way to the palace. The crowd seemed a bit livelier than the night before, now that people had largely dealt with the formalities of introductions and could enjoy the masquerade for what it was worth. Thankfully, although many people didn’t care about the anonymity, there were still a handful of folks who chose to ensconce themselves in disguise, wearing clothing and masks that didn’t match with any family. Some were foreign merchants, or wealthy travelers, or simply young masters that wanted a taste of individuality outside the ties of their clan. Therefore, Wei Wuxian’s unconventional appearance wasn’t too unusual after all, and most of the people he met assumed he was one of those dissatisfied young masters, of which he played the part well.

He danced with a few people, carefully avoiding those he recognized, and stayed to the food tables at the sidelines. His eyes swept the room for the blue and white of the Lan robes, but his gaze paused on a pair dancing in the center of the room. It was Jiang Yanli and that Jin Zixuan, twirling around in each other’s arms. Jin Zixuan, that peacock, was dressed in gaudy gold robes and a glittering mask that reflected the ballroom lighting painfully. The wealthy merchant Jin family was showing off as usual, but Wei Wuxian thought proudly that Jiang Yanli’s radiance far outshone him, carefully brushed hair flowing behind her like a dark waterfall against her lavender robes. However, while their dancing was the impeccable waltz of trained young nobles, their expressions appeared quite unusual; Jin Zixuan was scowling, refusing to meet Jiang Yanli’s gaze, and she was... smiling happily? Wei Wuxian wanted badly to go over and ask Jiang Cheng what was happening, but he couldn’t catch sight of his purple-robed Shidi and knew he had to stay as far away as possible anyway.

His eyes traveled back across the grand ballroom, and finally, he caught sight of his target. Or... two copies of him? There were two men of the same height with the same regal bearing and long dark hair, but one had slightly more ornate embellishments on his robes and mask, and a gentle smile on his face. Ah, right; that must be the older Crown Prince, Lan Xichen, who had a reputation for being kind and fair. Though nearly identical, Lan Wangji beside him wore a stoic frown, like the moon to Lan Xichen’s sun.

Suddenly, Wei Wuxian remembered the purpose of this ball. It was the coming of age of the youngest prince-- that was Lan Wangji, wasn’t it? It was then he realized something very important: Yesterday, Lan Wangji had been sulking at his own birthday party. Well, maybe _sulking_ wasn’t the right word, but Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but find the situation kind of sad.

He watched as the two Princes stepped up to the slightly raised platform at the front of the ballroom, which held a table designated for the royal family. The current regent of the Kingdom and the Princes’ uncle Lan Qiren sat at the head, as stern-looking as ever. The Lan family traditionally declared the coming of age at 18, but did not allow for one to take the throne until 21; thus Xichen, at 20, was still a Prince, and Lan Qiren had been regent since the King’s passing a few years back. Though everyone would know who he was in an instant, even he wore a mask, one incredibly beautiful and intricately carved. There was an impression of a message being sort of like, ‘though we stand above you, we are also one of you,’ or something like that. Wei Wuxian watched the Uncle and Nephews exchange a few words, and thought he couldn’t tell what they were saying, there was a twinge of irritation clear in the twitching of Lan Qiren’s lips.

After a few minutes (during which Wei Wuxian pretended to be very interested in the fancy cheese slices he was shoving in his mouth), Lan Wangji suddenly bowed, turned, and walked off the platform. It was clear that this angered Lan Qiren, who gritted his teeth and clenched his hands at his side, but before he could move after him, Lan Xichen put a hand on his shoulder with a placating smile and shrug. Wei Wuxian’s gaze trailed after Lan Wangji’s figure, which was heading to the edge of the ballroom.

Grinning, Wei Wuxian shoved another slice of cheese in his mouth, downed the glass of wine he was holding, refilled it, and followed after the Prince. Sure enough, Lan Wangji swept out onto that balcony from the night before. It truly was the best place one could go for a breather at the ball; at the far edge of the room, it wouldn’t be the first choice for guests wanting to socialize outdoors even if they wanted to brave the cold. While other balconies lined the ballroom, they were all made somewhat private by the tall hedges and ivy along the wall between them. It was a good spot for a moment alone. Too bad Wei Wuxian wanted company.

After waiting for a bit so it wouldn’t seem like he was purposefully following Lan Wangji (and ignoring that he kind of was), Wei Wuxian slipped onto the balcony and subtly coughed. Lan Wangji, who had once again been staring at the moon, tensed and turned instantly. His eyebrows furrowed slightly in a look Wei Wuxian hoped wasn’t disappointment. He grinned and waved in response.

“Yo! Whoops, I mean... hello, your highness,” Wei Wuxian said, dropping into a slight bow. Lan Wangji’s eyebrows furrowed further, and he quickly continued, “I did not realize I was talking to a Prince yesterday! I apologize if I offended you.”

“It is not important,” Lan Wangji said, sounding quite unoffended. That was a relief.

“Then, do you mind if I continue to speak informally?” Wei Wuxian asked, and Lan Wangji shook his head slightly.

“It does not matter,” he answered. Wei Wuxian stood up straight with a big grin.

“Whew, good! I don’t think I could keep that up for much longer, haha!” He immediately closed the distance between them to lean against the rail, dropping all formalities in an instant with the slightest permission. Lan Wangji turned his gaze away, and Wei Wuxian’s smile widened further. A voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Jiang Cheng warned him not to push his luck, but Wei Wuxian’s growing urge to tease quickly squashed that voice.

“So, what is the young Prince doing hanging around by himself at his own party? Ah, happy birthday, by the way!” 

Lan Wangji pursed his lips. “Do not like crowds,” he said simply, and Wei Wuxian nodded.

“Right, right, but that can’t be all. Your uncle looked pretty pissed at you back there,” he said, and Lan Wangji looked at him scrutinizingly. Wei Wuxian recalled what he’d said about heavy expectations, and though he knew the affairs of the royal family were the last place he should be meddling, he couldn’t help being curious.

“It is not of importance.” Lan Wangji’s words were without heat, and he turned his gaze back to the sky. Wei Wuxian chuckled and took a sip of wine.

“I see... youthful rebellion, huh? I’ve been there myself,” he nodded sagely. Well, he’d never really _stopped_ being in rebellious stage, according to Madam Yu. He’s plenty experienced in that area. “What have you been doing? Graffiti, petty theft, sneaking out after curfew?” He listed all the things that he’d done himself, but Lan Wangji shook his head with a frown.

“Frivolous,” he said, but his eyes turned back to the ground. “...I simply do not wish to dance.” Wei Wuxian raised an eyebrow at that, his interest piqued. 

“Why not?” he asked. Lan Wangji kept his gaze fixed downwards and didn’t answer. Was it possible the perfect-seeming Jade Prince was a bad dancer? Wei Wuxian _had_ to see that for himself. He smiled and held out a hand. “Would you perhaps care to dance with me, Prince Wangji? Get a little practice in so you can impress the swooning girls?”

Lan Wangji stared at his hand for a good moment before he simply replied, “No.”

Wei Wuxian’s smile fell into a pout. “Aww, why not? Is it because you really _are_ a bad dancer?”

“No.” Lan Wangji simply continued to stare. Wei Wuxian took his hand back, scratching his head with it.

“Well, what _do_ you want to do?”

“Stay here.” He kept his eyes on Wei Wuxian as he said that, which made something in his stomach squirm. He laughed it off, leaning back on the railing with a grin.

“It might be a little boring just hanging around out here with me, but I’m glad to keep you company~”

“It is not boring,” Lan Wangji said. That squirming feeling intensified, so Wei Wuxian took an extra slow sip of wine and coughed lightly.

“So... what sorts of things do you like to do? I’ve always wondered what kind of hobbies princes have.” If the royal family were anything like the Jin family, Wei Wuxian would expect their interests to include bathing in diamond dust and shitting solid gold, but the Lans didn’t seem like the type for such excess.

Lan Wangji seemed to think for a moment before replying. “I enjoy guqin. And reading.”

Wei Wuxian cooed happily. “Right, right! I think I’ve heard about Prince Wangji’s famous guqin playing. I play the flute myself, actually! We should do a duet, hehe! What kind of books do you like?”

“Historical. And mysteries.” 

“I like mysteries too! Well, hearing about them... I can’t really focus on reading most of the time.” Wei Wuxian took another sip of wine as he glanced at Lan Wangji. These were all the sorts of refined interests he would expect from the esteemed Jade Prince. There had to be some sort of catch to his regal perfection. He tried poking the dam, “I bet you secretly like sappy romance novels or something too, right?” 

To his surprise, Lan Wangji froze and looked to the side. Wei Wuxian’s eyes widened and he leaned a little closer, staring at the Prince’s face. Were his ears a little red? 

“Hey, hey, really?! Do you really?! That’s great! Who would guess that behind the cold face, Prince Wangji is a secret romantic, ahaha!” He laughed and grinned, leaning closer still to whisper scandalously, “Do you like erotica, too? Does the esteemed Lan Wangji read that sort of thing? It’s normal for a man, after all...”

“Ridiculous!” Lan Wangji practically spat, looking a bit angry at that suggestion, so Wei Wuxian backed off, though he was still laughing and grinning ear to ear.

“I’m joking, I’m joking! It’s okay to like things that aren’t ‘noble,’ though. It makes you seem more human. It’s nice to see you loosening up and showing a little emotion! Having to be so stiff and formal all the time must be a pain,” he said earnestly, drinking some more wine. This time, he caught Lan Wangji staring at him from the corner of his gaze. The Prince’s eyes seemed to be on his cup.

There was still a good amount left in it, so Wei Wuxian finished his sip and held out the wine with a tilted head. “Do you want some? It might help you loosen up even more! It _is _your birthday, after all.”__

__It was as Lan Wangji took the cup from his hands that Wei Wuxian remembered the Lans were notorious for abstaining from alcohol (which was a bit weird considering the amount they’d gotten for this party. He theorized they were getting rid of all the wine gifted to them from foreign dignitaries who didn’t know any better). Even if he was taking the cup, Prince Wangji wasn’t going to drink it, right?_ _

__However, to Wei Wuxian’s surprise, after a moment of staring at it, he put the cup to his lips and took a sip._ _

__And a moment later, Prince Lan Wangji stumbled, gripped the balcony railing, and slid to the ground, falling still._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Night 2 will continue for another chapter! Estimated total chapter count is about 8, but might end up a bit more. Hope y'all enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

As Wei Wuxian watched Lan Wangji fall to the ground, his mind blanked, and then filled with panic. He tossed the half-empty wine cup over the balcony, as if that would absolve him of blame, and slowly crept forward to examine the slumped body, heart pounding in his ears.

Holy shit. Did he just accidentally poison the Prince? The very Prince this party was for, who he was supposed to avoid at all costs, and who likely has never been drunk before in his life? Maybe the Lans had some kind of deadly genetic allergy to alcohol, and now Wei Wuxian would be convicted of murder and treason and sentenced to death and-- oh, thank gods, he’s breathing!

Noting the steady rise and fall of Lan Wangji’s chest, Wei Wuxian heaved a sigh of relief and knelt down next to him. At the very least, he hadn’t killed him. Still, he was concerned for both the Prince and himself, and after looking around to make sure there was no one to witness and misunderstand the scene, he put his fingers to Lan Wangji’s neck to check his pulse. His relief swelled at the steady thrum of heartbeat under his fingers (and wow, touching the Prince’s neck somehow felt scandalous, not just for his status but for how slender yet muscular it was, smooth skin fair like jade, and Wei Wuxian had to swallow a lump in his throat). However, before he could move his hand away, Lan Wangji’s eyes opened, and his hand shot up to grab Wei Wuxian’s wrist.

Wei Wuxian’s heart leaped out of his chest, and he forced a smile. “U-uh, sorry! You okay? You just sort of passed out there, so I was checking your pulse...” Why did he feel so embarrassed about that? It was the truth! But as he looked into those golden eyes behind the mask, now closer than before and staring at him with intensity, he couldn’t help feeling a bit nervous.

Actually, though it was hard to tell, Lan Wangji’s eyes appeared a bit glossy. He’d barely had more than a sip of Wei Wuxian’s wine, but was it possible he could actually be drunk? Most people would fall asleep _after_ getting tipsy, but was it possible royal blood worked in reverse? Lan Wangji hadn’t replied to him yet, so Wei Wuxian poked him twice with the hand still held centimeters away from the Prince’s neck. 

“Prince Wangji? Lan Wangji? What was your birth name again... ah, Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian cooed, trying to elicit some sort of response. Normally, no one would dare be so casual with a member of the royal family, but when did Wei Wuxian ever act normally? Finally, at this, there was a reaction; those golden eyes narrowed, and Lan Wangji stood up suddenly, pulling Wei Wuxian with him.

With the Prince’s (long, strong) fingers still firmly clasped around his wrist, Wei Wuxian began to get nervous again. “Ah, don’t arrest me, please! I was teasing you, just teasing, I won’t do it again! Besides, you drank on your own, I haven’t done anything wrong...” he babbled, but trailed off when he realized that Lan Wangji wasn’t making any move to restrain him or drag him to the nearest guard. He simply stood there, staring at him with a gaze Wei Wuxian couldn’t decipher. He reached up his other hand and...

Poked Wei Wuxian back? Yep, Lan Wangji definitely just tapped his neck in the same way he’d been poked a moment before, face entirely deadpan. Wei Wuxian snorted, barely managing to stifle his laughter. This definitely seemed like drunk behavior. He figured he might as well play along, and grabbed Lan Wangji’s wrist with his free hand to mirror him. The Prince looked between both sets of hands and frowned, pulling their wrists together. He continued to stare at them, concentrating hard, and Wei Wuxian tilted his head.

“What is it, Prince Wangji? What do you want to do? Do you want to play a hand game, like patty cake?” he asked jokingly. Would Lan Wangji even know what ‘patty cake’ was? The mental image of some elegant noble playing clapping games with a tiny, stoic baby Lan Wangji was too funny. However, to his surprise, that same stoic man actually nodded twice.

Lips curling, Wei Wuxian figured, what the heck? This could be entertaining. “Okay. Then, hold your hands up in front of you.” After a moment of consideration, like he didn’t want to let go, Lan Wangji slowly pulled his hands back and held them up. His fingers curled slightly, and he looked at a loss for what to do. It was absolutely adorable.

“Good! You probably don’t know the lyrics, but clap along with me, okay? Just follow what I do,” Wei Wuxian instructed, and clapped his hands together. Lan Wangji followed his motions, clapping stiffly. Actually, Wei Wuxian didn’t really remember the words himself. He’d played it with a couple of young children around the Jiang estate, but even then he usually just made something up... 

“ _Patty cake, patty cake,_ uh, _bake her ham,_ ” Wei Wuxian sang slowly, clapping his hands together and reaching out to clap Lan Wangji’s to the beat. The Prince took the claps firmly, but didn’t make any movements to move his own hands.

“Ah, Prince Wangji, you’re supposed to clap _with_ me! We clap our own hands together, and then clap the other’s opposite hands, see?” He demonstrated again, very deliberate in his movements. Lan Wangji slowly pushed his hands forward to match Wei Wuxian’s, intensely focused on the task. Teaching patty cake to an adult man was the last thing Wei Wuxian expected to be doing at this ball, but he couldn’t say it wasn’t a little fun.

“ _Bake me a cake as fast as a Lan,_ ” Wei Wuxian sang. “ _Pat it, and stab it, and seal it with a..._ ” He paused as, when his hand next met Lan Wangji’s, the Prince interlocked their fingers and held him there.

“Prince Wangji, the song isn’t over yet,” Wei Wuxian informed him, but Lan Wangji simply held him still and stared at him. Well, like much of the night, this was unexpected. He tried to pull his hand free to no avail.

Mischief running through his blood, Wei Wuxian smirked, letting his own fingers curl against Lan Wangji’s. “Ah, if you wanted to hold hands, you only had to ask~” he said with a wink. Lan Wangji continued to stare, giving even less of a reaction than before. Despite being clearly drunk, there was no flush on what Wei Wuxian could see of his face, which was quite unfair. It was unfair that his eyes were so bright and strong, that he still looked so impeccably regal like a marble statue given life. It was unfair that Wei Wuxian really quite enjoyed holding Lan Wangji’s hand like this, the fit of their fingers together like a puzzle fallen into place. It was unfair how his heart was becoming increasingly unsettled as he spent time with the Prince, and he didn’t have the right--

“Dance,” Lan Wangji said. Wei Wuxian blinked.

“Huh?” he asked, helplessly.

“Dance. Here,” Lan Wangji repeated, more firmly. Wei Wuxian blinked again, and a smile spread on his face.

“Oh, _now_ you want to practice?” He teased, but Lan Wangji frowned, eyebrows furrowing, and the grip on his hand tightened.

“Not practice.”

“Owowow, okay, okay, not practice!” Wei Wuxian shook his arm, trying to free himself. Lan Wangji didn’t let go, but he did loosen his grip a bit, expression softening. “I know I'm handsome and all, but you don't have to drink just to get the courage to ask me! If you’re going to take this seriously, though, aren’t you supposed to bow and ask politely instead of grabbing me? It hurts, you know!”

Lan Wangji frowned again, but this time he looked down, almost like a guilty child. He slowly disconnected their hands and bent into a deep bow. Wei Wuxian had to hold in a laugh; he couldn’t help but find this kind of sincere, serious response hopelessly endearing.

“Dance with me.” Lan Wangji peered up at him, golden eyes shining under white jade, and Wei Wuxian smirked.

“I’d be honored, Prince Wangji. There, that’s much better, isn’t it? No wonder you need to practice on me, if you’re this forceful--”

“Not practice,” Lan Wangji said again, more irritated than before. His serious gaze pierced right through Wei Wuxian’s skin and made his heart flip. He arranged his expression into a careful smile and laughed, trying not to make it sound nervous.

“Right, right. Not practice. Let’s dance then, Prince Wangji.” As soon as the words left Wei Wuxian’s mouth, Lan Wangji stood up straight and took his hand, gentler this time. His other hand moved to Wei Wuxian’s waist, strong and secure, and their bodies drew closer together. Wei Wuxian’s breath hitched, and the sandalwood scent he’d caught before filled his nose at the proximity. It was a pleasant, cool smell, yet he found an overwhelming warmth in Lan Wangji’s embrace.

With all the natural grace and elegance expected of the kingdom’s Jade Prince, Lan Wangji began to lead Wei Wuxian in a waltz, pulling even the terribly unpracticed servant in perfect step alongside him. With the smoothness of his dancing, regal posture, and fluid guidance, Wei Wuxian almost doubted if he was even drunk at all; yet despite the soft music flowing in from the ballroom, Lan Wangji was dancing to an entirely different rhythm.

Smiling wide to hide the laughter bubbling in his chest, Wei Wuxian wrapped his arm around Lan Wangji’s neck and pressed closer still, whispering next to his ear. “Prince Wangji, you’re a marvelous dancer, but what song are we dancing to, exactly?”

He felt the Prince tense just slightly, but he didn’t pause in his dancing, pulling Wei Wuxian in a wide, fluid twirl. “It is a song for us.”

Wei Wuxian bit his lip to hold back both laughter and the fuzzy warmth that seemed to be pressing on his tongue. “Oh? And what does that sound like?” It couldn’t be ‘patty cake,’ right?

Surprisingly, Lan Wangji actually started humming a pleasant tune. Soft and low, the hum reverberated through the chest pressed against Wei Wuxian’s, and that sensation and sound made him focus all of his senses on Lan Wangji. It was a sweet song, with a gentle melody that, for some reason, made Wei Wuxian feel like he was being let in on some deep secret. Lan Wangji continued to lead him in perfect rhythm, and after a minute, Wei Wuxian found himself humming along. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, and after a few notes, something clicked in his memory.

He’d heard this song before, years ago. The humming voice of Lan Wangji was somewhat familiar, too. Hazy memories of a funeral, a shady alcove, a stiff young boy plucking a guqin, came flooding back and settled into place in his heart.

Taking in a sharp breath, Wei Wuxian whispered again, hesitant. "I have... met you before, haven't I? Not as 'Prince Wangji,' but, back then..." he bit his tongue. Even if he was right about this newfound memory, and even if it filled him with this warmth and tentative excitement, it didn't matter. Lan Wangji didn't, shouldn't, _couldn't_ know who Wei Wuxian was.

He moved to pull away, but Lan Wangji gripped his hand tight again. Wei Wuxian’s heart jumped at his gaze, wide eyes determinedly boring into him. This was bad. He couldn't be recognized. He couldn't feel like this.

"Prince Wangji, it was nice dancing with you, but I have to go," he said, trying to tug his hand free to no avail. What was it with this Prince and hand-grabbing?

Lan Wangji's eyes narrowed, mouth set in a firm line of determination. "No."

He really _did_ have to go. Even if escaping whatever was happening between them was part of it, it was getting late, and Wei Wuxian couldn't afford to leave after midnight.

"I really have to go, Prince Wangji," he insisted more urgently, but the Prince didn't loosen his grip in the slightest. Was he that stubborn while drunk?

"Stay," Lan Wangji said, more order than request. Wei Wuxian sighed and was about to say something else when someone new stepped onto the balcony. Ah, right; as much as it had felt like their own little world, this wasn't a private spot. Wei Wuxian froze, staring at the newcomer from the corner of his eye.

"Wangji, are you here? Uncle wants you to-- oh?" The Crown Prince, Lan Xichen, paused in his step at the sight before him. Lan Wangji stared back, silent, still grasping Wei Wuxian's arm like a child refusing to let go of a toy. The latter smiled weakly and offered a feeble wave.

Lan Xichen coughed into his hand. "Hello... sir? I apologize if I'm... interrupting anything?" he said, smiling with pleasantness despite his clear confusion. 

Wei Wuxian coughed and went back to his 'mysterious noble' voice (when had he stopped using it? Since Lan Wangji woke up drunk? Since he stepped on the balcony? He wasn't sure), "Good evening, Prince Xichen. I was just about to take my leave." He bowed, and finally, Lan Wangji released his hand. Chancing a glance at him, Wei Wuxian couldn't help the throb in his heart at the disappointed expression he found.

He couldn't stay any longer, though. Without another word, Wei Wuxian stiffly strode into the ballroom and slipped through the crowd, making it out well before the midnight chime.

His head was a mess. As soon as the first memory came back, it was like a floodgate opened, and scenes from 6 years past poured through his mind in waves. How could he have forgotten? Well, then again, it would make sense if he’d buried the memory with the sadness from that day.

He was far too restless to even fake sleeping, so when the rest of the Jiang family came home, he sat through Madam Yu's scolding about chores (though he was right that the kitchen impressed her enough that her rage was diminished some) and clung to his siblings as soon as he could escape her.

"A-Cheng, A-Li, listen! My heart is in turmoil!" He wailed, clinging to each of their arms. Jiang Yanli, the angel, smiled benevolently, while the devil Jiang Cheng scowled at his misery.

“Be quiet! What the fuck are you talking about?” Jiang Cheng hiss-asked as he shepherded his siblings into his room, away from their parents’ ears.

“I remember where I met Prince Wangji!” Wei Wuxian said, heart still reeling so much that he’d almost forgotten Jiang Cheng’s death threats from earlier that day. His shidi’s face turned red with anger as he realized that Wei Wuxian hadn’t stayed away after all, and he lunged to grip his collar.

“You...!”

“Calm down, calm down! I’m sorry I talked to him again, but I had to! He still doesn’t know who I am, but I have to be sure that I’m right about my memory...” Wei Wuxian struggled to escape his grip, and Jiang Yanli came to the rescue, putting her hand on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder.

“A-cheng, let him go. Let’s hear him out,” she said, eyes firm. Jiang Cheng sighed and released Wei Wuxian’s collar, though veins still twitched as he clenched and unclenched his hands. Wei Wuxian sat down on the bed (ignoring Jiang Cheng’s indignant squawk) and put his head in his hands.

Realizing that this wasn’t a small matter, Jiang Yanli sat next to him and rubbed his back in circles, waiting for him to speak. He took a deep breath and began.

“Do you remember... my mother’s funeral?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kind comments!! They really make me feel happy and excited to write more! :)
> 
> Drunk patty cake is simultaneously the best and worst idea I've ever had. Also, note that the timeline for Wuxian's parents' death differs here from canon.


	4. Chapter 4

That afternoon six years ago was far too bright and pleasant for the somber occasion of Cangse Sanren’s death. The sun glaring on mourners dressed in white, combined with the wetness clouding Wei Wuxian’s eyes, made everything look hazy and surreal. It didn’t feel real, either. His mother’s body in the casket was too stiff, too lifeless. She had always been full of zest; even though sadness wavered in her eyes after her husband’s death, she was still brighter than the sun, smile genuine and mischievous. Now, that brightness was replaced with cold pallor, looking more like a porcelain doll than anything that had once been alive.

When his father died, Wei Wuxian had been too young to feel the impact of death. His remaining memories of Wei Changze were pleasant but faded, like an old photograph with worn edges. Now, he was 12; he was old enough to know death, to know the finality of it and what it meant for the mother he held dear. He knew it was expected to be sad. Next to him, Jiang Yanli was choking back sobs, and Jiang Cheng’s eyes were glistening as he stared pointedly at the ground. Even Madam Yu looked more somber than he’d ever seen her, the sharpness of her usual expression softened. The hand holding Wei Wuxian’s squeezed almost painfully, and he looked up at Jiang Fengmian. The man seemed not to notice he was holding so tight; his eyes were gazing somewhere far away, deeply saddened, a trail of tears streaming silent down his cheek. Wei Wuxian’s own eyes teared slightly, stung, but he thought, he wasn’t really sad. He shouldn’t be.

Wei Wuxian liked the Jiang family, of course. His mother liked to travel, especially after his father’s death, and sometimes she couldn’t take Wei Wuxian with her. So she’d leave him at the Jiang estate, and he was good friends with the children, considering them like siblings. When Jiang Fengmian offered to take him in, of course he’d accepted. But his mother would always come back for him. She’d only be gone for days, weeks, sometimes a month or two at most, but she’d come back, and she’d bring him wonderful souvenirs. He clutched the flute she’d given him for his last birthday in his other hand, sleek and black with a red tassel.

Even now, Wei Wuxian didn’t understand why he was standing with the Jiang family when his mother was right there. Any minute she’d stand up and take him home; or maybe it really wasn’t her after all, and she was playing a prank, and she’d come out and laugh about how she fooled everyone with such a silly-looking a doll. That’s what he thought as the service went on, the priest droned, the sun bore down. Words traveled through his ears but skipped comprehension, a dull hum. 

Then the casket was closed, and Wei Wuxian went rigid. His mother wasn’t getting up, even as she was carried away. It wasn’t until the coffin was lowered into the ground with a sense of finality that he unfroze, and all the delayed emotions shot through his body. It really was true, wasn’t it? His mother was never coming back.

Rather than stand closer to his mother, Wei Wuxian now wanted nothing but to get as far away as possible. He wrenched his hand from Jiang Fengmian’s and bolted, pushing past the crowd of mourners and ignoring the shouts from behind, unable to even tell who was shouting. The tears that had been hovering gathered to blur his vision, and he blinked hard against the burn as he ran blindly through the old graveyard.

It was a large and hilly piece of land, holding bodies that stretched back enough generations that whatever lay under some of the weathered, chipped tombstones had long been devoured by the earth. Wei Wuxian ran until he couldn’t breathe anymore, lungs stinging and heaving like they’d been stabbed. He finally gave out under a big willow tree near one of the graveyard’s tall cobblestone walls, and every desperate inhale stung, choked, the tears held back so long finally starting to spill.

But then he heard a noise, and looked up to see a boy around his age. He was sitting in a little alcove in the wall that Wei Wuxian had overlooked entirely, dressed in white, a guqin in his lap. He looked as stunned to see Wei Wuxian as he was him. They stared at each other silently for a minute, and then the floodgates broke. Wei Wuxian began sobbing, wails breaking the somber silence of the graveyard.

The boy in the alcove was frozen for a while, but slowly, cautiously he slid the instrument off his lap and stood, taking a hesitant step towards the crying boy with his hands held up helplessly and brows knitted. Wei Wuxian interpreted this as an invitation, and though this boy was a stranger, it was precisely the comfort of someone who didn’t know and wouldn’t judge him that he desperately needed. He launched himself into the boy’s arms, curling one hand tightly in the clothes on his back while the other clutched his flute like it was a part of him. The boy went rigid as a board, but didn’t push him away. After a bit, his hand came to stiffly, awkwardly pat Wei Wuxian’s shoulder.

Wei Wuxian cried until his nose was stuffy and his cheeks were swollen, and then he pulled back, rubbing his eyes hard with his sleeves to get rid of the wetness. He put his flute inside his robes and smacked himself soundly on the cheeks twice, and squished his face up. The boy he’d been crying on watched with an expression mostly neutral, if a bit confused.

“Okay! Okay, okay, okay!” Wei Wuxian repeated the word a dozen times, smooshing his cheeks around. With one final tight squeeze, he released his cheeks and a grin spread across his face. “Okay! I’m alright now.”

The boy in front of him tilted his head just slightly, silently questioning, and Wei Wuxian laughed. His throat felt a little hoarse, and his cheeks were sticky, and maybe he didn’t have all the boundless energy he usually did, but he really was okay. He explained, “When my mom was upset, or trying to get ready for something, she would squeeze her cheeks like this, and keep doing it until she got fired up! She says there’s nothing wrong with being sad, but to always look at the bright side of things, and face life with a smile! She wouldn’t want me to be too sad for too long, so... I’m not gonna be.” 

Maybe things would be different. Maybe Wei Wuxian wouldn’t be able to go back to the house he lived in, but he spent a lot of time at the Jiang estate anyway. Maybe he wouldn’t get any more gifts, or any more tight hugs, fun stories, or supportive words from his mother. But people came and went all the time, didn’t they? Everyone had to die, and they couldn’t come back from that, but life would go on. Cangse Sanren would want him to go on, too.

The boy nodded. “I am glad,” he said. It was the first time he’d spoken, neutral and simple. After a moment he headed back to his spot in the alcove, sliding the guqin into his lap once more. Not ready to go back yet and curious about this boy, Wei Wuxian sat on the cool stone next to him.

“Sorry for crying all over you! I might have ruined your clothes,” Wei Wuxian said. There was definitely a wet stain on the boy’s shoulder.

“It is fine.” The boy replied simply, plucking a cord on his guqin without looking up. It rang out with a sharp _twang._ Wei Wuxian watched him, examining. He didn’t remember seeing this boy around the village, but he was quite pretty, with silky-looking dark hair and light, almost golden eyes framed by thick eyelashes. As he was staring, the boy spoke again quietly. “I am sorry for your loss. I have... also lost my mother.”

Wei Wuxian blinked, and looked at his hands in his lap, smile saddening a little. “Was it... hard to get used to?”

“Mm. But time has passed,” The boy said, expression stoic though his words were soft. After a second, he added, “I am here. To listen.” Wei Wuxian tilted his head, confused for a second, but then it clicked and he beamed brightly, taking the boy’s spare hand in his and giving it a little squeeze. The boy’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t pull back.

“Thanks! I’ll talk, then.” And so Wei Wuxian launched into tales about his mother, about her pranks and journeys and how she always helped others without expecting anything in return. He talked about her spicy cooking, her habit of forgetting important things at the worst times, the way she always did everything loud and carefree, the way she talked about his dad. He showed the boy the flute his mother had given him. “I’m not really good at it yet, but I’m gonna practice a bunch! Are you good at playing the guqin?”

The boy nodded. It was then Wei Wuxian wondered why he was in the graveyard in the first place; it didn’t seem like he was there for the funeral, as this spot was rather far away from the service, and he had that guqin with him. But he was dressed in mourning white, alone in this little alcove.

“What are you here for, anyway? Visiting your mother?” Wei Wuxian asked, but the boy shook his head.

“Uncle is attending a funeral. I am playing for the spirits.” He took his hand back and plucked another couple of cords on the guqin, a pleasant sound. Wei Wuxian ‘oo’ed and leaned a little closer. It wasn’t uncommon for children to go off and play during such services they weren’t intimately involved in, and Wei Wuxian was sure he’d never met this boy, so if his Uncle knew Cangse Sanren, it wasn’t a close enough relation for him to be forced to stay. Wei Wuxian knew he’d get restless and be sent off if he were in his position. He’d run away today anyway, though for a different reason.

“That’s really cool! Can I listen?” he asked, and the boy nodded. He began to play, a slow, simple but somber song that certainly sounded like something meant for mourning. The boy played with little of the clumsiness expected of his age, carefully practiced, and Wei Wuxian was in awe. When the song was finished, he clapped wildly, a big grin splitting his face.

“Wow, that was amazing!! You’re super good!” he praised, and the boy looked down, the tips of his ears slightly pink though his face remained impassive. Wei Wuxian’s grin grew even brighter, and he hummed as a thought came to him.

“Isn’t it a little too sad, though? If the spirits are already dead and sad, wouldn’t they want to hear a happier song?” he questioned. The boy frowned slightly.

“It is a traditional song. It is meant to help spirits rest in peace.”

“Well, maybe if they’re restless and unhappy, something more uplifting would help them! At least something that isn’t as sad. Something with a little hope, y’know?”

The boy’s brows pinched a little, like he didn’t know how to even go about playing something like that. Wei Wuxian pulled out his flute again and put it to his lips. 

“Something like this, maybe?” he said and blew a few notes, trying to come up with a tune that was uplifting but appropriate. He was still very inexperienced, though, and his playing was clumsy, with notes falling flat or sharp or being lost from lack of breath support. But he managed to put together some kind of melody, a sort of energy he wanted to get across, and after a little while, the boy joined in with the guqin. Their notes tangled and intertwined, and the boy changed it slightly along the way to something a bit sweeter, a bit smoother, and hummed along. Wei Wuxian followed the change naturally, though a bit clumsy still, and together, they created something.

After a while, their duet came to a natural close, sound petering out into peaceful silence once more. Wei Wuxian smiled brightly at the boy, who looked down at his guqin with a contemplative expression.

“That was fun! I’m sure the spirits will like that better,” Wei Wuxian said proudly, but the boy shook his head.

“It is not a suitable song for spirits,” he said firmly.

“Huh? Why not?” Wei Wuxian asked, putting his flute back in his robes with a pout. 

"It will not help them rest. It is not meant for them."

Wei Wuxian scrunched his face in confusion. “What is it for, then? Why did we keep playing?”

The boy paused for a moment, seemingly deep in thought. He said slowly, “It is a song for us.”

Wei Wuxian blinked, and then broke into laughter. “Haha! Okay, it’s our song!” he let out a sigh, grinning brightly at the boy once more. “I like you! I’m glad we could meet here and be friends. Thank you.”

The boy’s ears tinged pink again, and Wei Wuxian laughed again. They talked there for a while longer as the sun started going down, tinging the world in a soft shade of orange. Well, Wei Wuxian talked; he rambled more about his mother, about his friends, his lessons, his favorite foods and his dreams for the future, the inventions he wanted to make and people he wanted to help. The boy mainly just listened, occasionally humming a _‘hm’_ or _‘mn’,_ and Wei Wuxian found that it really was what he needed. Talking about it all felt good, freeing.

“WEI YING!” A shout broke through the peaceful alcove, and Wei Wuxian looked to see Jiang Fengmian jogging towards him from over the hill, huffing for breath. All good things had to come to an end, and he felt a bit guilty at the man’s frantic, worried appearance. He'd been gone for over an hour or two by now; he didn’t know when the funeral service ended, but he’d likely been searching for him since then. The boy stood up as Wei Wuxian did.

“Thanks again,” Wei Wuxian said, smiling. “I liked talking to you.” The boy nodded and gave a polite bow. He looked like he wanted to say something, but hesitated, and before he could say anything Jiang Fengmian had reached them and bent down in front of Wei Wuxian.

“Wei Ying! Are you alright? You ran this far... I’m sorry,” The man said, pulling him into a tight hug full of relief and sorrow. Wei Wuxian hugged him back, feeling tears start to prick his eyes again. He took a deep breath and pulled away, giving Jiang Fengmian a bright smile.

“I’m okay! I made a friend,” he said, and turned to the boy who had been there a moment ago. But there was no one there, and it was only then that Wei Wuxian realized he never got his name.

For a while, he thought the boy might have been a ghost, or an angel sent to help him. But he had _felt_ real, and human. He wanted to meet him again, learn his name, but he never so much as saw him on the street. The time after the funeral was a chaotic whirlwind of change for Wei Wuxian; moving into the Jiang household permanently, Madam Yu’s attitude becoming somewhat more resentful towards him, dealing with his mother’s affairs as her only next of kin and all the adjustments to life without her. Over the years, the boy slipped his mind completely, lost in the blur that defined that period of time in his memories.

But when he heard Lan Wangji hum that song, everything Wei Wuxian thought he’d forgotten came back. It was a little different, a little more refined and mature, a song that had grown from the clumsy playing of 12-year-old boys, but it was definitely, unquestionably the same. And as he sat on Jiang Cheng’s bed now, recounting the memories of the boy in the graveyard, a single sentence echoed again and again in his head.

_It is a song for us._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A deal of inspiration for this backstory came from Ella Enchanted, another sort-of-Cinderella story!
> 
> In case anyone's confused about the timeline, Wuxian's dad died when he was 2-3, and Wangji's mom would have died when he was around 5-6. They're both 12 at the time of this funeral, and Wangji's dad died when he was 15, which is when Qiren stepped up as Regent. Wuxian and Wangji are 18 at the time of the ball.


	5. Chapter 5

Wei Wuxian had never before told his siblings about what happened when he ran away at the funeral, about the boy he’d met. They were silent when he finished.

It was Jiang Yanli who broke the quiet. “If I remember correctly, Lan Qiren was at the funeral, before he became Regent. He was acquainted with your mother. An old mentor of hers, I believe.”

That matched up to what Lan Wangji had told him. It seemed it really was him Wei Wuxian had befriended that day.

“So, let me get this straight,” Jiang Cheng said after a while. At some point during the story, he’d perched himself backward in a chair, facing the bed with arms crossed over the backrest. His expression was carefully neutral as he asked Wei Wuxian, “You say he doesn’t recognize you, right?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

“And you recognized _him_ because of a song you two came up with _together_ 6 years ago?”

“Yeah. I thought I explained that pretty clearly?”

Jiang Cheng glared at him. “A song. Prince Lan Wangji hummed. Which he said specifically was,” he mimed heavy air quotes, “‘ _for us._ ’”

“Uh, yeah?” Wei Wuxian felt like he was missing something. Jiang Cheng looked like he was going to break the chair. Jiang Yanli coughed lightly into her hand.

“Well, A-xian, it sort of sounds like... he might recognize you, and was trying to use the song to express that?” she suggested gently, hand on Wei Wuxian’s shoulder.

Wei Wuxian blinked and frowned. “No way! He couldn’t recognize me. I mean, what are the chances? I’m disguised, older and much more handsome. I didn’t recognize _him_ at first! He probably just liked the song, so he kept working on it over the years and remembered it while he was drunk.”

“Are you seriously so--” Jiang Cheng started, irritated, but then he paused, face scrunching. “Wait. Did you just say that _Lan Wangji_ was drunk?”

Wei Wuxian scratched his cheek awkwardly. “Oh, I forgot to mention that. Yeah.” For some reason, he didn’t want to share how Lan Wangji acted when drunk. He felt special being the only one to know.

Ah, there it was; Jiang Cheng’s face started rapidly changing color again from purple to white to red. Veins jumped on his hands where they were now tightly gripping the backrest. Wei Wuxian knew his brother was desperately holding back; if he shouted now, he’d risk waking Madam Yu and incurring her wrath. Realizing that her brother couldn’t handle much more, Jiang Yanli tossed him a pillow from the bed, which he shoved his face in and let out a stream of muffled curses.

Once he’d gotten out the bulk of his frustration, Jiang Cheng glared at Wei Wuxian over the pillow. “So you’ve corrupted the fucking stoic Prince, who probably recognizes you and could easily throw us all in jail at any moment. Great. Fucking fantastic.”

“He definitely could,” Wei Wuxian agreed, and at Jiang Cheng’s bemusement, he clarified, “He could probably throw us _anywhere._ He has really nice arm muscles.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyebrow twitched, and he shoved his face back into the pillow. It almost wasn’t enough to muffle his anguished screams.

“Um, A-Xian... what do you plan to do?” Jiang Yanli asked carefully. Wei Wuxian opened his mouth to answer, but shut it again as he realized... he didn’t really know.

All the uncertainty of this weekend was really killing his ‘laid back risk-taker’ vibe. But he _couldn’t_ be risky here. It was royalty he was dealing with, and while he doubted he’d get jailed just for making friends with a Prince, there were still high stakes involved. If he did anything scandalous and people knew who he was, it would cause trouble for the whole Jiang family. Madam Yu had a point about why she didn’t want him going to the ball in the first place. And at the very least, his siblings were at risk for facing their mother’s wrath if she found out about them helping him attend.

But, he didn’t want to let go of Lan Wangji yet. He was enjoying the time spent with him on that balcony, and he felt like Lan Wangji was enjoying it too. How many other people actually encouraged him to have fun?

“He’s obviously fucking smitten,” Jiang Cheng interrupted Wei Wuxian’s thoughts, apparently finished suffocating himself for now. “The best option would be to prevent him from going tomorrow entirely.”

“I am not!” Wei Wuxian protested, even as his stomach did a little flip at Jiang Cheng’s suggestion. “I don’t... and even if I _was_ , I know that I couldn’t... I just want to hang out and be his friend! Even for just one more night. Trust me, that guy _desperately_ needs a friend. Anyway, you can’t just ban me!”

“It would be rather unfair, A-cheng,” Jiang Yanli said, and Wei Wuxian grinned at his shijie with love and relief. But then she continued, “If nothing else, A-xian needs to respond to Prince Wangji’s courting properly.”

“Wha-- he is not _courting_ me!” Wei Wuxian practically squawked, and Jiang Cheng let out a puff of bitter laughter.

“Right. Hanging out with you all night and dancing alone on the moonlit balcony totally shows he’s not into you at all. You _do_ realize the purpose of this ball is supposed to be finding him a partner, right?”

Ah... now that Wei Wuxian thought about it, with all the matchmaking going on at the ball, it would make sense. Coming of age celebrations did tend to have an undertone of _'time to get hitched!'_ and that would explain why Lan Wangji wanted to avoid dancing so much. But...

“I don’t think he’s interested in that stuff at all. Like I said, he just really needs a friend. It’s my self-assigned duty now to help him deal with the stress of being hot and popular! I’ve got plenty of experience with that, after all.”

Jiang Cheng leaned back and rolled his eyes to the heavens. “Whatever. You’re fucking doomed. You’re dooming all of us for your shitty gay royal crush. Fuck.” He sounded defeated. Wei Wuxian felt simultaneously victorious and unsettled.

Jiang Yanli smiled, patting his shoulder again. “As long as you follow the rules, A-Xian, you can still go. Just be extra careful about not letting anyone know who you are, okay? That includes Prince Wangji. Even if he does remember you, he still might not know everything.”

Right. As far as Wei Wuxian could remember, he’d never told Lan Wangji his name, that day in the graveyard. He might have heard it when Jiang Fengmian called for him, or put two and two together that it was his mother’s funeral Lan Qiren was attending. But even if Lan Wangji knew his name, it was unlikely he’d know Wei Wuxian was taken in by the Jiang family. He wouldn’t know that he was just a servant. That he wasn’t supposed to even _sneeze_ in Lan Wangji’s direction, nevermind act as shameless as Wei Wuxian had been.

“However,” Jiang Yanli continued, “if he does like you, and you like him, I don’t want to ruin your chance at happiness, A-xian. If he asks to officially court you, I’m sure even mother wouldn’t be displeased. It would just need to be handled properly.”

Wei Wuxian blinked. He didn’t expect that. His chest felt tight, for some reason, but he laughed it off. “I’m telling you that’s not how it is! I mean, if a Prince asks me out I’m not going to say no, but that’s never going to happen.” 

Even if-- _if--_ Wei Wuxian admitted to himself that he liked Lan Wangji, which he _didn’t_ , and even if Lan Wangji liked him back, which he _definitely_ didn’t, he _couldn’t_... Wei Wuxian didn’t think it would be allowed. Lan Qiren was notoriously traditional. He probably wanted Lan Wangji to find some nice, noble girl to marry and bear a nice, noble heir, especially since Lan Xichen hadn’t settled down yet either. Wei Wuxian was a servant, and male at that. Even though it wasn’t unprecedented for rulers to have same-sex partners and people were generally accepting of that sort of thing, if the acting King didn’t like him...

Well, all of that was _if_. Wei Wuxian knew there was no chance of things coming to that, anyway, so why bother dwelling on it? Even if he couldn’t stop thinking about Lan Wangji’s eyes of molten gold, or his sandalwood scent. About those slender hands that fit so nicely with his own. About the way Lan Wangji’s arm wrapped around his waist like he belonged there.

He _didn’t_ belong there. Not in a million years, this lifetime or the next. He wanted to stop thinking entirely. So he reached for the conversational equivalent of a cold bucket of water.

“Speaking of official courting, Shijie, what’s going on with Jin Zixuan? I saw you dancing for a while tonight.”

Jiang Cheng’s face immediately soured like he’d eaten a Jin-colored lemon, while Jiang Yanli flushed and smiled bashfully.

“Ah, well... he apologized for how he treated me before and expressed that he’s interested in getting to know me better! He was really very sweet, and he’s quite fun to tease...” Jiang Yanli went on talking about her night at the ball, and there was a certain shine in her eyes that let Wei Wuxian feel a little relieved. Even if Jin Zixuan was a snooty peacock, if he made Jiang Yanli happy, Wei Wuxian would have to learn to accept him. He wouldn’t make it easy for the guy, though.

Wei Wuxian managed to avoid bringing the topic back to him until the three were too tired to talk any longer. They said their goodnights and let Jiang Cheng have his bed back, returning to their own rooms. Before Wei Wuxian tucked in for the night, though, he dug out his flute.

It still looked the same as it did when it was given to him all those years ago, if slightly scuffed from use. He did try to be careful with it, more so than most of his belongings, but, well. ‘Careful’ wasn’t exactly Wei Wuxian’s strong suit. He kept the sleek black bamboo polished, at least, and while the red tassel hanging from it was a little frayed, it was still intact. He loved that flute, one of the strongest remnants of his mother. He itched to play, but it was far too late to be making noise.

What if he... brought his flute to the ball? What if he played that song for Lan Wangji that they had created together? If Lan Wangji really did remember him, and Wei Wuxian showed that he remembered him from that time too, then...

Would it change anything? Would it give any closure to the twisting in his chest? Would the tentative warmth between them become something more substantial? Is that what Wei Wuxian wanted? 

He fell asleep with the flute held to his chest, unable to come to a conclusion.

In the morning... Wei Wuxian still didn’t know what to think. Madam Yu instructed him to finish the cleaning he was supposed to do the day before, and he got to work on scrubbing the floors (aside from the kitchen, which was still thoroughly sparkling). But his thoughts were wandering all day, back and forth between Lan Wangji and the Jiang family and his mother and that song that wouldn’t stop playing in his head. As soon as he finished the floors, he abandoned all hopes of getting to the fireplaces, entire body restless. He itched to play his flute, to dance again to that song, to dance again with Lan Wangji...

When the time came for him to leave, Wei Wuxian still hadn’t quite figured out what exactly he wanted to do. But he was a man of instinct and action, anyway. So he donned his black and crimson robes and crow-like mask, and made the decision to grab his flute at the last second while heading out the window.

 

The atmosphere of the ball seemed extra lively for the final night, with everyone who had met new friends and potential romantic partners excited to chat and dance again. Wei Wuxian had his own friend he was eager to see. He arrived a little later than usual, so he made a quick pitstop for some liquid courage and beelined right for the balcony.

He found it empty, and a cold breeze made him shiver. Clouds mostly covered the slowly waning moon, casting everything in dark shadow. In the lonely night, the balcony didn’t seem nearly as inviting and bright as it had the two nights before. 

Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but wonder if Lan Wangji would even show up at all. Maybe it had been presumptuous to assume he could command the Prince’s attention for another night. Even though Lan Wangji seemed to enjoy his company, he was surely high in demand and had better things to do than talk to Wei Wuxian. His hand curled around the flute tucked by his waist. Maybe it was a waste to bring it after all. Even if he was able to talk to Lan Wangji again, being able to play that song for him was another matter...

As he was lost in thought, Wei Wuxian didn’t notice the presence of someone else behind him until they were brushing against his sleeve to enter the balcony. He tensed in surprise, ready to bolt if he accidentally let someone from the Jiang house get too close. But when he realized who it was standing before him, he instantly relaxed, and a relieved smile spread across his face. “You came!” 

Lan Wangji nodded as the clouds over the moon parted, light shining softly through once again. “Mm.” It was such a simple acknowledgment, yet Wei Wuxian somehow felt elated by it. 

The question was prickly on his tongue, and he couldn’t help but ask: “Did you come out here just to see me?” His tone was joking, but he still found himself holding his breath as he waited to hear the answer.

Lan Wangji nodded again, and happiness bubbled through Wei Wuxian’s body, along with a burst of confidence. He smiled brightly and stepped closer, grabbing Lan Wangji’s hand to pull him further out on the balcony.

Another breeze blew past, sending their robes and hair flying out in different directions. It was still cold, but with Lan Wangji here, Wei Wuxian felt like everything had become warm and bright again. A strand of Lan Wangji’s long hair brushed his shoulder, and he twined it around his finger, smile turning into a coy smirk.

“You were so bold last night, Prince Wangji~” he teased, and the Prince tensed. Wei Wuxian laughed, letting the silky hair drop. “To think you’re so fun when you’re drunk, no wonder the Lan family abstains from alcohol!”

Lan Wangji’s expression was hard to see under his mask, but his brows were deeply furrowed. “...I do not remember much.”

Wei Wuxian raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What _do_ you remember?”

Lan Wangji looked down, seemingly contemplative. “...I believe we were dancing, and you left.”

“Ah... is that it?” Wei Wuxian asked carefully, taking a slow sip of his wine. So Lan Wangji didn’t remember the patty cake, or their song? Should he be relieved or disappointed by that?

“You had said something... but I do not recall what it was,” he said and bowed deeply. “If I did anything unseemly, I apologize. I had not come to my senses, but I should not have held you against your will.”

Wei Wuxian was a bit surprised, both by how much Lan Wangi was speaking and the content of his words. Did he think he’d forced Wei Wuxian to dance or something? If he didn’t remember anything else from before then, and could only recall Wei Wuxian’s attempts at escaping... didn’t that make it seem like he didn’t want to be dancing with Lan Wangji at all? Really, it was the complete opposite case! 

He quickly tried to reassure him, waving his hand. “Ah, it’s fine, it’s fine! I don’t mind at all. If I could have stayed, I would...” he laughed to stop himself from saying too much, patting Lan Wangji lightly on the arm as he changed tracks.

“I mean, it was fun to dance with you, Prince Wangji. I thought you wanted to avoid dancing because you were bad at it, but you’re really quite skilled! Anyone who’s led by you would surely swoon! That’s why you don’t want to dance with just anyone in there, right?”

Lan Wangji nodded. “I do not wish to participate in such frivolous endeavors.”

“Well, it makes sense that Regent Qiren wants to pair you up with someone, like the traditional fuddy-duddy he is. Ah, no offense! But really, you don’t need a ball to find a partner. I’m sure with your looks and qualities, you could get anyone you want to fall in love with you!” Wei Wuxian took a long sip of wine, trying to ignore the weird feeling in his heart.

Lan Wangji stared at him while he drank, golden eyes boring into him. “Mm. Anyone,” he said softly. Wei Wuxian brought his cup down slowly, swallowing the rich liquid as he met Lan Wangji’s stare. The intensity in his gaze felt like it was boring right through Wei Wuxian’s skin, past all the falsehoods and straight into his soul. That couldn’t mean what Wei Wuxian wanted it to, could it? Wait... what he wanted? What _did_ he want, anyway? His heart pounded in his chest, body warm and tingling, and words hovered on his tongue...

Someone at the entrance of the balcony coughed loudly. Wei Wuxian jumped, and even Lan Wangji seemed to tense slightly as they both looked to see Lan Xichen standing there. He smiled politely and inclined his head towards Wei Wuxian in greeting. “Good evening, sir. It’s nice to see you again. I’m afraid I must borrow Prince Wangji for a while, if that’s alright.”

Wei Wuxian nodded and hurried to bow properly, but he peered at Lan Wangji from the corner of his eye. However, most of his peripheral vision was blocked by the edge of his mask, and he could only see his mouth in a thin line as Lan Xichen walked up to him.

“Brother--”

“I really am sorry to interrupt, Wangji, but Uncle is very insistent that you come inside to dance. Just with a few people. It is the last night of the ball, after all.”

Lan Wangji looked down for a moment before nodding slowly. Lan Xichen smiled with what seemed like a bit of relief and led Lan Wangji inside by the arm. Wei Wuxian watched their backs, unsure what to do. He felt bad for Lan Wangji, being forced to do what he was desperate to avoid all weekend, but there wasn’t much he could do...

Well, there was _one_ thing. 

Wei Wuxian left his half-finished wine on the balcony and swept inside, rejoining the ballroom crowd. He made his way towards the crowd gathering around the center of the dancefloor, joining a cluster of red-robed Wens in an area with no purple in sight.

The crowd was, of course, congregating around the spot in which Lan Wangji now stood, taking the hand of a pretty young maiden in an elegant white gown. Wei Wuxian had to admit, they looked quite beautiful as a pair, surrounded by an aura of nobility and grace. However, he had to hold in laughter as the two started dancing. Sure, to the crowd of casual onlookers, there wasn’t anything wrong with the scene before them, and it was in fact quite stunning to behold; the woman’s twirling gown was complemented by the sweep of Lan Wangji’s long hair as they spun, well-practiced steps in perfect time with the classic ballroom music. But Wei Wuxian could tell there was something completely off with the picture.

“What a perfect match,” someone next to Wei Wuxian whispered, and he couldn’t help but smirk. There was nothing perfect about this pairing; anyone could clearly see how stiff Lan Wangji was! He was dancing perfectly, of course, leading his partner perfectly, doing everything in a technically perfect way as was his nature. But his hand on her waist hardly looked like it wanted to be there, and the one guiding her appeared to be treating the maiden’s delicate gloved hand like little more than steering device. And, while Wei Wuxian couldn’t see Lan Wangji’s eyes behind his mask from where he stood, he could tell that the Prince’s expression wasn’t changing at all throughout the dance, just as solemn and stoic as if he were attending a funeral.

A new, restless itch grew inside Wei Wuxian, one he couldn’t ignore. He had to dance with Lan Wangji again, save him from this dreary ballroom waltz he so clearly hated. That was the least he could do as the Prince’s sole friend at this ball, right? 

So, as soon as the song ended and the couple bowed to the polite applause of those surrounding them, Wei Wuxian immediately pushed his way through the crowd. He slid right in front of the next dance partner who was about to take Lan Wangji’s hand, ignoring their disbelieving gasp as he took their place. When their hands met, he looked up and smiled. 

The golden eyes he met were somewhat wide with surprise, a change from that blank stoicness, and that’s what Wei Wuxian wanted to see. He bowed politely, and Lan Wangji bowed back. They didn’t say anything, making their way to the center of the dancefloor as the music started up again.

The sound of a shocked _“You--!”_ came from the crowd behind Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian looked past his shoulder to see the very livid face of Jiang Cheng, and Jiang Yanli grabbing his arm to hold him back. Ah, he’d almost forgotten, this kind of move would definitely draw attention to himself. All the eyes in the room were focused on him and Lan Wangji, putting him at higher risk of being recognized. He spotted Madam Yu at the other side of the room, too far away to see her expression. But as Lan Wangji pulled him closer, one hand on his waist and the other intertwining with his own, Wei Wuxian couldn’t bring himself to care.

All those eyes around him mattered no longer, everything diluting down to him and Lan Wangji once again. Lan Wangji was already an excellent dancer while drunk, but now that he was sober, there was an even greater elegance and gravity to his motions. His long strides and gentle but firm guidance carried Wei Wuxian around the ballroom like their bodies were one, contrasting dark crimson and bright white robes melding together like an osiria rose. Wei Wuxian found himself unable to look away from Lan Wangji’s face. The firm line of his lips had softened, and his eyes were warm as they stared into Wei Wuxian’s. There was a world of difference between his dancing with the noble girl and his dancing with Wei Wuxian now. It was different from their dance on the balcony, too; once Wei Wuxian was able to come down a little from his feeling of pure awe, he didn’t intend to let Lan Wangji have _total_ control. He pulled their joined hands slightly more towards the side, moved his hips at an angle, and drew Lan Wangji’s practiced regal waltz into something a little freer, a little more energetic. The audience seemed as captivated watching them as they were with each other. Hardly anyone noticed when the song ended and they kept dancing into the next.

At the slight change in rhythm, Wei Wuxian took the chance to lean closer to Lan Wangji’s ear, whispering just loud enough to hear, “Is it more fun to dance with me?”

Lan Wangji’s hand at his waist tightened slightly, and he dipped his head to hum back, “Mm.”

Wei Wuxian’s smile spread, a sense of giddiness running through him, and as they kept dancing, he got an idea. It was likely the bachelor Prince was going to be forced to keep dancing even after they parted, and Wei Wuxian didn’t want to watch Lan Wangji go through that as much as he was sure Lan Wangji didn’t want to do it. Plus, Wei Wuxian was now determined to play that song for him, especially since Lan Wangji didn’t remember humming it. He really wanted to spend as much time with this man as he possibly could before the ball had to end.

It was a stupid, reckless idea, but when did Wei Wuxian have ideas of any other kind? As the song neared its end, he whispered, “Do you want to leave this ball?” 

Lan Wangji nodded, nearly imperceptible. Wei Wuxian asked one more question: “Do you trust me?”

Lan Wangji nodded again, a bit more firmly. Wei Wuxian’s grin spread wide. As the song ended, their dancing came to a stop, and they parted from each others’ embrace. But instead of letting go of Lan Wangji’s hand so he could dance with someone else, Wei Wuxian squeezed it tighter.

“Then run!” he said, and pulled that hand with him as he turned to push through the startled crowd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long with this chapter! Hopefully I'll be able to keep them coming a little quicker again. Thanks for all your support and kind comments! <3


	6. Chapter 6

Lan Wangji followed as Wei Wuxian pulled him past the stunned onlookers, heading towards the entrance of the palace. The two guards at the door looked young and inexperienced, just as bewildered to see the Prince and his dance partner running past them as everyone else was. 

The slightly taller guard managed to come to his senses and shout, “H-hold on!” as they started down the steps. He moved to stop them, but Lan Wangji held up his hand. The guard paused, baffled, as Lan Wangji nodded firmly and willingly followed the man with the crow mask outside. 

They kept running, down the long marble steps and out into the night, cold wind at their backs pushing them along with a sort of thrilling eagerness. The stunned guards watched helplessly until a voice from inside the palace roared,

_“SIZHUI! JINGYI! DO NOT JUST STAND THERE LIKE HEADLESS CHICKENS, AFTER THEM!”_

At Regent Qiren’s command, the two guards jolted, hesitating for a brief moment before sprinting down the stairs. More guards soon flooded out behind them in pursuit of the runaway Prince and his partner, who quickened their pace.

“Um, Prince Wangji, I know I started this and all... but I don’t really know where we’re going,” Wei Wuxian said over his shoulder, still running and pulling Lan Wangji’s hand despite lacking a destination. His genius plans kind of stopped after _‘take the prince and run.’_

Lan Wangji didn’t falter in his steps, but he otherwise seemed to pause for a moment before he nodded, pulling Wei Wuxian’s hand to direct him to turn. And so the Prince took the lead, twisting through the palace grounds, leaving the guards farther and farther behind until there was no sound around them but the rustling of leaves in the wind.

Their pace slowed, and Wei Wuxian laughed breathlessly as he came closer to Lan Wangji’s side. “We got away!” He said cheerfully, and Lan Wangji nodded but did not stop, still holding Wei Wuxian’s hand as he walked forward with purpose.

Wei Wuxian only followed quietly. He was curious, but he didn’t really care where they were going if it meant he could stay like this for even a moment longer. He stared at Lan Wangji’s profile, sculpted face softened in the wavering moonlight as clouds intermittently passed overhead. The white jade mask almost appeared as if it were a part of him, carved from his fair skin, and his black hair was like a night sky in itself. Lan Wangji was truly ethereal, and Wei Wuxian felt he was more out of breath from looking at him than he was from running.

And this unworldly man, this Prince, was holding Wei Wuxian’s hand, guiding him into a flower garden somewhere deep within the palace grounds. Wei Wuxian was so happy he felt like he was going to burst, and unconsciously his grip tightened. Lan Wangji stopped at that moment and turned to him. “We will stay here,” he said, and Wei Wuxian finally drew his gaze away to fully take in the scenery. 

The garden they stood in was absolutely beautiful, filled with white gardenias, snowdrops, and more unusually, deep purple gentians that glistened with a thin layer of evening frost. In front of the two men was a small but elegant white gazebo, with climbing moonflowers wrapped around it that opened their buds to the night.

Wei Wuxian held his breath as Lan Wangji brought him up into the gazebo, focusing on the subtle floral aroma in the air and the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze to calm himself as their hands finally, reluctantly parted. Eventually, he smiled. “This garden is really wonderful! Do you come here a lot, Prince Wangji?”

Lan Wangji nodded. “It was my mother’s garden.”

That would make sense; the lively dark purple gentians stood out, defiant of both the climate and the stifling stark white elegance that permeated most of the palace grounds. Stories of the late Madam Lan were hard to find, and she was never seen outside the palace after her marriage, but it was known that she was a free spirit who defied the norm yet settled into the strict Lan family when the previous King fell in love with her. This vibrant garden was a symbol of her subtle defiance, and Wei Wuxian felt a little more comfortable around those flowers. 

Now that Wei Wuxian thought about it, it was their mothers that allowed him and Lan Wangji to bond, in a way. Well, their mothers’ deaths. Which wasn’t exactly the happiest occasion. But Lan Wangji’s reassurance at the funeral really did help Wei Wuxian cope with his feelings then. That day, two boys sat in a little alcove, playing a song for the spirits that they themselves needed to hear more; tonight, two young men stood in a little gazebo among blossoming winter flowers, and Wei Wuxian needed that song to be heard again.

“Prince Wangji, you...” He took a deep breath. “You hummed this song last night. You probably don’t remember, but it’s a song I know well, so... I want to play it for you.” He took out his flute and held it up to his mouth, the shiny dark wood matching the color of his mask. With another shaky breath, he began to play.

Wei Wuxian tried to express all the emotions that had been building inside him since he first reunited with Lan Wangji on the balcony two nights ago, feelings he didn’t know how to put into words. He was a much better flutist now than he was 6 years ago, and while the tone of the song was slow, even somewhat melancholy, his playing had a natural liveliness to it that filled the melody with hope. Hope that even if he couldn’t name what exactly these feelings were that had buried deep in his chest, his raw musical expression would lay everything bare, an open and honest symphony from his heart. Listening to himself play, he was even able to find some words, things that really, if he thought about it, he knew all along.

_Affection, attraction, admiration. Uncertainty and apprehension. Interest and desire. The pure, tentative beginnings of newfound love, an unattainable love too good to be true but too real to ignore._

As soon as the last note faded into the quiet night ambiance, and the flute lowered from his lips, Wei Wuxian felt a strong hand grip his wrist tightly. Slightly startled, he looked up to find Lan Wangji not even a foot away, holding onto him and staring with wide golden eyes that shone with indescribable emotion. Wei Wuxian stared back, his own gray eyes hopeful, searching. Both seemed to be silently asking: _“You do remember?”_

Before either could speak, Lan Wangji’s eyes suddenly narrowed, and in the next moment, he quickly pulled Wei Wuxian out from the gazebo. Taken by surprise, the flute fell from his hand, clattering lightly to the ground. Lan Wangji pushed Wei Wuxian behind a tall, thick bush of white azaleas and pressed up close in front of him. 

“Do not move. Be Quiet,” Lan Wangji’s voice, low and soft, said next to Wei Wuxian’s ear. The breath ghosted hot over his skin, and even if he wanted to move Wei Wuxian didn’t think he’d be able to. As his mind scrambled to figure out what was going on, he finally processed the sound of running footsteps coming down the garden path. The guards searching the grounds had caught up to them. The azalea bushes, arranged in a semicircle behind the gazebo, were at just the right angle to block the two men from view entirely as the guards passed by. 

Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but stare up at Lan Wangji’s face, just inches from his own. In the pale moonlight, half his face was cast in shadow, but the refined curves of his features were highlighted exquisitely, and the golden eyes behind his mask seemed to glow. Their bodies pressed close against each other, shallow breaths driving their chests closer still. Practically in a trance, Wei Wuxian reached out a hand and gently, tenderly put it to Lan Wangji’s cheek, as if he wanted to take the place of the moonlight on his jaw. He felt the Prince’s breath catch, and in careful silence, they stared at each other. 

The shouts of guards and pounding footsteps gradually faded into the distance, but neither man behind the bush dared to let out a breath. They didn’t move away, either. Subconsciously, Wei Wuxian’s thumb slowly slid to the corner of Lan Wangji’s lips. Lan Wangji’s hand reached up to cup his face in return, and it felt like electricity was spreading through his skin from the point of contact, every inch of him vibrantly aware. He shivered, and the urge to be even closer to this man, _feel_ more of him was almost overwhelming. 

Wei Wuxian leaned in, up, just slightly, tilting his head. Their masks made a dull sound as they knocked together, the fine jade of the Prince’s intricate white mask against Wei Wuxian’s waxed leather black. Lan Wangji’s breath was warm on his lips, and if he just moved infinitesimally closer...

But then, the hand on Wei Wuxian’s cheek started to slide his mask up. And suddenly, jarringly, he remembered. Who he was, where he was, who it was that he was about to kiss. And he panicked. 

Eyes blown wide, he shoved Lan Wangji away and grabbed his mask to push it down hard against his face. The rough material pressed sharply into his skin, but the pain was nothing compared to the stabbing he felt in his heart as he looked up again. Lan Wangji stood stiffly, hands held slightly up like he hadn’t realized they were empty. On that face that was usually so passive, there were traces of confusion and loss. Wei Wuxian backed away a little further, throat burning and tongue dry as he tried to force out an explanation.

“I... I’m sorry,” he said breathlessly. “I can’t.”

Lan Wangji took a hesitant step forward, but it seemed without direction, lost. And it hurt Wei Wuxian immensely.

“Why?” Lan Wangji asked, an edge of uncertainty to his voice that Wei Wuxian had never heard and didn’t _want_ to hear. He wanted so badly to tell him everything. But how could he? What could he do to explain this to him? To reconcile his false identity and true position with the overwhelming desire he felt for Lan Wangji, someone he should never have been able to touch?

“I can’t,” Wei Wuxian said again. “I’m not--” he was interrupted as the bells of the grand palace clock rang, marking the hour. His eyes widened, and a new panic set in. 

It was midnight. He had to leave. 

Wei Wuxian clenched his hands into tight fists. “I’m sorry!” he shouted, one more time, and ran out into the night.

“Wait!” Lan Wangji’s cry rang out behind him, but Wei Wuxian didn’t look back. He _couldn’t_ look back. He ran out of the garden and kept running, rushing to find his way out of the palace grounds. He ran against the push of the cold wind, against the clock, and against his heart. His throat burned, his face burned, his lungs burned, but he didn’t stop.

When he finally neared the Jiang household, Wei Wuxian saw the family’s carriage pulling up. They were already home. He bolted around the back and jumped the wall, hurriedly entering the house through the nearest window just as he heard the front door open. He’d happened to hop into the study, and he quickly pulled off his outer layers and mask and chucked them behind the big writing desk. But his vibrant red inner robes were still too conspicuous and unusual, and it was only a matter of seconds before he would be found.

Panicking, Wei Wuxian scoured the room for something, anything he could use to cover himself. There was nothing except for the desk, packed bookcases, a few chairs, and a fireplace... A fireplace!

Without hesitation, Wei Wuxian flung open the grate and jumped inside.

The act of doing so made a rather alarming noise, and Madam Yu’s elegant dark purple gown soon swept into the room along with her piercing gaze. She froze in place, however, face darkening as she took in the scene before her. 

“My Lady,” Jiang Fengmian called from behind and nearly bumped into her back as he caught up. He was followed closely by Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, who _did_ bump into their father’s back.

Wei Wuxian rolled out of the fireplace, absolutely covered from head to toe in ash. He coughed some black dust into the air and sat up, rubbing his back where it hurt from his hasty improvisation, but at least his entire body and robes were sufficiently hidden by the soot. Good thing he didn’t finish his chores earlier. He laughed nervously and grinned up at the Jiang family in the doorway, who all wore nearly-identical expressions of disbelief and bemusement. They truly were related.

“Aha... welcome home?”

Madam Yu’s face darkened even further, and her hand twitched, making Wei Wuxian instinctively flinch as he recalled the discipline whip that hand usually held when she wore this kind of expression. Her sharp eyes looked Wei Wuxian up and down, but instead of saying anything, she closed her mouth in a thin line.

It was Jiang Fengmian who eventually asked, sounding a little strained, “Wei Ying... what are you doing?”

Wei Wuxian gestured to the fireplace and the cinders scattered all over the dark red carpet. “Cleaning the fireplaces.”

Jiang Fengmian looked a little lost. “And how did you...”

“I thought I heard a bird in the chimney, so I climbed in to check, and ended up tripping and getting stuck. Whoops!”

Madam Yu’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “A bird? This late at night?”

“I heard flapping,” Wei Wuxian shrugged, “Could’ve been a bat.”

Madam Yu slowly tapped her fingers on her thigh a few more times, contemplating his explanation. Finally, she turned away with an elegant swish. 

“Don’t even think about getting sleep until you’ve cleaned up this mess,” she ordered, and with that, she swept out of the room. Jiang Fengmian scratched his head, offered a somewhat pitying smile, and followed after her. Wei Wuxian’s siblings were left behind in the doorway, finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.

But their peaceful state didn’t last long. Jiang Cheng’s veins bulged on his forehead as he stomped into the room and grabbed Wei Wuxian’s collar, uncaring that his hands would be stained black. He half-shouted, half-hissed in his face, “ _WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!_ Do you know how close you were to being caught just now? Do you know how much fucking trouble you’ve caused?!”

Wei Wuxian barely flinched. He knew such a reaction from Jiang Cheng would be coming, and didn’t mind even if he got beaten tonight. He felt... kind of numb, actually, as the adrenaline wore off and the thoughts started to sink in. 

He’d run away from Lan Wangji. He’d run away from his chance to kiss him, his chance to change everything. Midnight struck, the ball was over, and nothing was left to save. He’d even destroyed the robes his Shijie had so lovingly made for him. He’d ruined _everything,_ huh?

“I messed up,” Wei Wuxian said, and it came out almost a whisper. “I messed everything up.”

His vision felt unfocused, head and heart heavy. Jiang Cheng’s expression shifted slightly, and his grip loosened, half-pushing Wei Wuxian away as he backed off. He tried to dust off his hands, but that just made the black smear more across his palms. Jiang Yanli moved closer, eyes full of worry.

“A-Xian, are you alright?” she asked. Wei Wuxian nodded without meaning it and gave her a smile. But it must have looked as pitiful as he felt, because her expression only grew more concerned.

“I’m sorry I ruined your dress, Shijie. I really loved it,” Wei Wuxian said, and Jiang Yanli quickly shook her head. She looked like she wanted to hug him or touch his cheeks in comfort, but he was still covered in soot.

“Don’t worry about things like that. I’m only worried about you. You looked so happy dancing with the Prince, and I could tell how much you care for each other... Did something happen?” 

Wei Wuxian took a deep breath. “It doesn’t really matter. It was never meant to work out that way. I’m just a servant, and he’s... he deserves better. We’ll probably never see each other again, anyway, and it’s better off that way. He doesn’t know who I really am, and if he did...” he trailed off, not sure how to finish. 

“Oh, A-Xian...” Jiang Yanli said softly, and moved to hug Wei Wuxian despite his filthy state. He shifted away, and she seemed to understand that he didn’t want her to get dirty, pressing her lips together in a sad smile. She sighed and stood. “I’ll help you get cleaned up,” she said, and left the room to get supplies.

Jiang Cheng remained, arms crossed. He glared down at Wei Wuxian, quite similar to the imposing image of Madam Yu. His voice was low, almost a growl, but calmer than before. “After your little stunt, mother thought the man in the crow mask looked familiar, and what you pulled was just stupid enough for her to suspect you. You’re lucky you managed to get away with it, but I’m _this_ close to breaking your legs. If you ever do anything like that again, you’re dead meat, Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian nodded, staring at the carpet on the study floor. He heard Jiang Cheng shift but didn’t look up, even as his brother continued speaking. 

“Why the fuck are you so upset? Did he do something weird?” Jiang Cheng asked, a hint of concern in his voice. Wei Wuxian blinked in slight surprise but quickly shook his head.

“No! No... Lan Wangji is... he’s perfect. It’s me that messed up. It was a dumb idea to get so close to him.”

Suddenly, a hand came to roughly tousle Wei Wuxian’s hair, ruffling up a small black cloud. He looked up at Jiang Cheng with wide eyes, who continued speaking while looking pointedly away. “It’s weird seeing you so down about something. Yes, you’re a shameless, arrogant idiot, and Prince Wangji _definitely_ deserves better than you. But for some reason, he _likes_ you. Anyone with eyes could see that when you were dancing together. Besides, since when the fuck have you ever cared about social standing?”

Wei Wuxian didn’t know how to respond. Jiang Cheng... wasn’t wrong. He never cared that he was technically a ‘servant’ in the past, so... Why did he care so much now? _‘It’s just an excuse,’_ his traitorous brain supplied. _‘It’s not your status you’re worried about.’_

Jiang Cheng turned and left the speechless Wei Wuxian just as Jiang Yanli came back in with a rag and a small bucket of water. Wei Wuxian pushed his thoughts down as she helped him clean up a little, but he sent her away after just his face and arms were wiped down. After all, scooping up all the cinders would only make him dirty again. It was going to take forever to scrub the mess out of the carpet, too... He felt like groaning and whining, but really, this mess was his own making. He needed a distraction from his thoughts, anyway, so he put all his energy into cleaning. 

By the time the sun was nearly about to rise, Wei Wuxian was utterly exhausted. He fell asleep on the study floor, his task nearly complete but not quite there, a few scattered cinders left darkening the ground around him. 

He still hadn’t realized the one thing he’d left behind at the ball.

 

The night had been long and draining for everyone at the palace. Lan Qiren had been absolutely furious to the point steam poured out of his ears when not a single guard could find the second Prince, and it wasn’t until long after all the guests had left that Lan Wangji finally returned, alone and solemn-looking. The Regent lectured him for over an hour, to which he diligently listened and retired to his room afterward without an extraneous word. Lan Qiren then turned to the guards and reprimanded them for twice as long, forcing them to handstand throughout the whole ordeal as punishment.

Lan Xichen had watched his brother closely from the time he returned, and his heart grew increasingly concerned. Where had the boy Lan Wangji had seemed so fascinated with gone off to, and why did Lan Wangji look so distraught now? It clearly wasn’t that his feelings weren’t returned; Lan Xichen had seen the pure awe and affection in the boy’s smile while they danced. He wished to get to the bottom of this, but didn’t want to disturb Lan Wangji if he was unwilling to talk...

He roamed the halls in the next morning’s light, contemplating the matter, and happened to hear a pair of palace guards talking around the corner.

“...totally unfair to get extra punishment! If the Prince told us to stop, he didn’t want to be followed! So we weren’t breaking any orders, right?!” the frustrated voice of one guard, quite loud, caught Lan Xichen’s attention. 

A softer voice spoke, much more restrained, “Jingyi, keep your voice down... it’s not that I don’t agree, but such noise is forbidden in the palace...” 

“Excuse me,” Lan Xichen spoke up as he rounded the corner. The pair of guards froze stiff. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. You two are the ones who were guarding the entrance? Sizhui and Jingyi, correct?”

The taller of the two, Sizhui, quickly arranged himself into a proper formal bow. “We apologize for speaking so brazenly, Crown Prince Xichen. Yes, that is correct.”

The other guard, Jingyi, finally unfroze and scrambled to bow in the same way, but Lan Xichen motioned for them to rise with a smile on his face. He recalled these two had been made to run five laps around the palace grounds before they were allowed to rest.

“Don’t worry, I am not here to reprimand you. From my understanding, you’re not incorrect in your assessment; if Prince Wangji ordered you not to follow, then you were doing the right thing by staying back. However, Regent Qiren’s orders are to always be your top priority, above Prince Wangji and myself. He was only dissatisfied by your hesitation once his order to chase had been given, in addition to all the guards’ failure to find the Prince. Thankfully, the situation wasn’t dangerous, but we must be more careful in the future.” 

“Yes sir,” the two guards answered diligently. Sizhui looked satisfied with this explanation, but Jingyi seemed like he still wanted to say something.

Ever perceptive, Lan Xichen asked, “Is there anything else bothering you?” 

Sure enough, Jingyi cleared his throat and saluted before hesitantly voicing his thoughts. “It’s just, sir, we weren’t able to find the man with the crow mask, and Prince Wangji came back alone... is everything alright?”

Lan Xichen put on a more complicated smile, but before he could answer, a voice came from the top of the nearby grand stairwell. “Brother.”

Lan Xichen turned and looked over Lan Wangji carefully, feeling a little more at ease as he took in his expression.

“What is it, Wangji? You look quite excited,” he commented, and the two guards still at his side glanced at each other skeptically. To them, the younger Prince must appear as stony-faced and solemn as ever, but Lan Xichen knew how to read his brother well. There was an unmistakable gleam of determination in his light eyes. 

“I would like permission to search for someone.” 

Lan Xichen smiled softly, but the curve of his eyebrows showed his slight apprehension. “I’m more than happy to give my permission, but I’m afraid Uncle may not be so easy to convince... do you know anything about this person? Name, address?”

Lan Wangji broke eye contact, looking down. “No. I did not obtain such information.”

Lan Xichen couldn’t help but worry a bit more. “Wangji, while I’m overjoyed you’ve found someone you’re interested in, shouldn’t you at least learn his name before you decide if this is a serious pursuit? What _do_ you know about him?”

Lan Wangji raised his right hand, which had been tightly clenched by his side. In its grip was a sleek black flute with a red tassel. “He plays the flute,” he said like it was all that mattered, and Lan Xichen could only sigh.

He was interrupted before he could speak again, however, as a familiar furious voice rang down the hall.

“LAN WANGJI!” 

Lan Qiren came storming towards the small group, face red, and the two guards instantly dropped into a deep bow. He paid them no mind, focusing his anger on Lan Wangji.

“First, you run off with an unknown party and purposefully elude the guards, and now you say you intend to _search_ for this hooligan who disrupted the ball so impudently?!” Lan Qiren practically roared, but his stubborn nephew didn’t flinch at all.

“Yes.”

Lan Qiren’s face was so red, Lan Xichen worried he might faint from all the blood rushing to it.

“I absolutely will not allow this,” Lan Qiren hissed between clenched teeth. Lan Wangji simply bowed.

“I apologize for my insolence.” Despite saying that, he started walking down the stairs like he wasn’t sorry at all. Lan Xichen couldn’t help but feel bad for his uncle; he looked so shocked he just might shatter. This was the first time Lan Wangji had disobeyed his wishes so actively. But the shock soon turned to anger again, and Lan Qiren shouted after him,

“I FORBID YOU TO TAKE ANOTHER STEP DOWN THESE STAIRS!” 

Lan Wangji paused on the landing as ordered, and turned back around. His eyes shifted to the big window beside the grand staircase, and Lan Xichen suddenly had an awful premonition. 

Lan Wangji bowed. “Yes, Uncle,” he said. He then proceeded to jump out the open window, quicker than anyone could react.

The 4 people standing at the top of the stairs were stunned into silence, all eyes staring out the empty window into the bright blue day. Lan Xichen quietly glanced around. The young guards looked like they’d rather dissolve into the ground than stay at the scene, but didn’t want to leave and draw attention to themselves. Lan Qiren’s face had drained from red to white, almost a ghostly pallor. 

After a few minutes, the Regent swept his sleeve and stormed off with heavy footsteps, shouting vaguely to those behind him, “Let him act a fool, but I will not acknowledge this mockery of tradition!”

The young guards simultaneously slumped in relief as soon as Lan Qiren was gone. Lan Xichen turned to them and gently clapped his hands together.

“Well, that was certainly exciting. Now, would you two go assist Prince Wangji in his search?” 

The guards stiffened again, and Sizhui tentatively asked, “Um, Crown Prince Xichen... please forgive me, but did you not just instruct us that Lan Qiren’s orders are absolute?”

Lan Xichen smiled, a strange glint in his eyes. “Yes, but what orders did he give to you? He was only speaking to Prince Wangji just then, and in fact, said to let him do what he wants. Besides, for a Prince to wander around all by himself... capable as he is, I still worry for my brother’s safety. He’ll likely need some assistance in properly finding the one he’s searching for, as well, and were you not voicing concern for him a moment ago? I’ll talk to Regent Qiren if any trouble comes up for you, so won’t you help ease this Crown Prince’s heart?”

The guards looked at each other and blinked, then shrugged, and bowed to Lan Xichen. “Yes, sir!”

As they ran off to catch up with Lan Wangji, Lan Xichen let out a sigh and looked out the window his brother had left from. 

“I wish you luck, Wangji...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Cinderella-esque elements trickle in this chapter, including [the window-jumping from Cinderella 3!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CwQrEUZDJCk) Thank you for all the support! :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!! It's been a while (school murdered any semblance I had of creative productivity) but I'm finally able to update again! :D

Rumors were always quick to spread throughout the village surrounding the palace. House-spouses would gossip in the morning marketplace and recount the most exciting stories to their families at home, who would take the gossip to work and out to play with neighbors. A private affair between a bickering couple could be overheard by one person at night, and by the next afternoon, everyone within the township would be talking about it.

It was no wonder, then, that the news of Prince Wangji’s search spread so quickly. Within an hour of him knocking upon the first household, villagers were all but lining up waiting to be tested. 

“Did you hear? The Second Prince is going door to door, asking all young men to play a black flute?”

“It’s true, it’s true! Prince Wangji came to my house this morning! He shoved the flute in my eldest son’s hands and simply ordered, ‘Play.’ When my son said he didn’t know how, the Prince swiped it back from him and left without another word. How bizarre!”

“You know, my neighbor’s son is actually quite a skilled flutist, but when he tried to play, he’d only blown a few notes before Prince Wangji stopped him and took it back. He even wiped it thoroughly as he was leaving, with those two young guards scrambling to help... What do you think he’s trying to accomplish?”

This sort of event was much more exciting and mysterious than the usual gossip of “who’ s-screwing-who” or “who’ s-screwing-who-over.” In the frenzy of curiosity, rumors continued to grow, and some embellishments got a bit out of hand.

A pair of merchants discussed the matter as they sold their wares:

“You know the man who ran away with the Prince at the ball? No one knows who he is, and I’m almost certain it’s him that they’re looking for!”

“Why do you think? Perhaps Prince Wangji fell in love with that man, and is willing to follow him to the ends of the earth to track him down... how romantic!”

“Pah, that sounds like some children’s fairytale! No, I’m almost certain that crow-masked man committed some sort of crime, perhaps stole something from the castle... after all, did you see how furious Regent Qiren was?”

“If that’s so, what significance could the flute possibly have?”

“I’ve heard of people who can make sorcery from music; wasn’t the Lan family rumored to have ties to that sort of thing in their past? Maybe if that man plays the flute, his true identity will be revealed!”

“Bah, who’s story sounds like a fairytale now?” 

Unbeknownst to the pair of merchants who continued to bicker, a particular woman at a stall across the road happened to overhear this conversation. Her already-dark face grew even stormier. Suddenly, the loquat she held in her hand was squished, splattering orange-yellow juice and stunning the poor fruit merchant.

“M-Ma’am? I-is this fruit not to your liking?” he squeaked timidly, but quickly shut his mouth as the woman glared at him.

“Fengmian, we’re returning home at once,” she spat, and stalked off with a swish of her sleeves and a murderous aura, not sparing a single glance behind her. Her husband quietly apologized to the merchant and handed him a few coins before hurrying after her.

\---

Wei Wuxian had woken up shortly past sunrise with a blanket over him from an unknown source, still covered head to toe in soot, and surrounded by his unfinished mess. Exhausted, he quickly changed into ordinary robes before Madam Yu or Jiang Fengmian could notice something amiss, and finished cleaning up the study. Then, he curled up on the rug there again, not wanting to return to his bed. He still had flecks of ash all around his body, and he was too tired to clean up properly. The floor was plenty comfortable enough for him to simply rest and reflect.

That scene in the garden kept replaying over and over in his head. Lan Wangji, ethereal in the moonlight, warm breaths, clinking masks... he couldn’t help imagining what could have come next. What _would_ have come next, if he hadn’t run away. The realization that he really, _really_ liked Lan Wangji came too late for him to be able to do anything about it.

He liked Lan Wangji, and he was afraid Lan Wangji wouldn’t like _him_ if he knew who he really was. Jiang Cheng was right; he didn’t care about status, but he cared about Lan Wangji. He didn't think Lan Wangji was so shallow to look down on him for being a servant, but he had lied, hidden behind false grandeur, and he didn't know what kind of life Lan Wangji might expect him to have. Maybe it was for the better that he would never know the outcome of revealing his identity... yet a part of him kept nagging at the back of his brain, gnawing away at his gut, wishing he had told the Prince everything. 

At some point, he must have fallen asleep again as his thoughts danced circles around his head, for the next thing he knew he was jolting awake, cold and drenched.

“Did you _really_ think you could get away with it?” A voice colder than the water pierced through Wei Wuxian’s shock, and he realized that it was Madam Yu speaking. The gears in his brain started turning again as he looked up to see her standing over him. She was holding the now-empty water basin he’d left next to him when he finished cleaning in one hand, and her discipline whip in the other. 

“Get... what?” he managed to speak, cold water droplets crossing his vision as they dripped from his hair. 

Madam Yu threw the basin to the side, and it clattered harshly on the ground. Her face was absolutely furious, like a tiger about to devour a mouse. “Don’t play stupid with me, Wei Ying. I know you went to the ball against my express commands. I know you made a fool of yourself in front of every noble around, and somehow, you did _something_ to anger the second Prince.”

Wei Wuxian furrowed his brow, confused. He tried to think up excuses, but he couldn’t deny most of what she was saying. Although, the last part... “He’s angry?”

Veins popping on her forehead, Madam Yu raised her hand, and Wei Wuxian flinched back, preparing for a strike. But it didn’t come; instead, she grabbed him by the collar of his robes and pulled him up, dragging him to eye level. Her glare was more intense than he’d ever seen it. “I don’t know _what_ you did, but the Prince is searching for you, waving your godforsaken flute around for all the town to see. What do you think will happen if he finds you here, hm? How exactly do you think this will reflect on me and my family?! You can rot in a jail cell for all I care, but so long as you remain under this roof, your decisions affect all of us! And just when Yanli has finally managed to get in good graces with young master Jin... do you ever think of anyone but yourself?!”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes went wide, and a mixture of fear and hope swirled in his chest. Of course, he didn’t want to do anything to hurt the Jiang family, but... Lan Wangji was looking for him? He was pretty sure the Prince would want nothing to do with him after last night, yet he was _searching_ for him... Wei Wuxian hadn’t even realized until now that he’d left his flute behind. What did this mean? Could it be... Lan Wangji wanted to see him again? The hope in his heart surged. This could be his chance to clear things up!

“Ah... I think there might be some sort of misunderstanding here, Madam Yu--” he started to explain, but she only grew more enraged, tossing him back on the ground.

“There is no _misunderstanding!_ You cannot possibly deny your presence at the ball, or the fact that the Prince has one of _your_ belongings! Do you think I’m a fool?!”

“It’s not that! I-- Prince Wangji--” he was cut off once more by the crack of the discipline whip at the heel of his feet.

“QUIET!” Madam Yu shouted, holding the whip aloft, threatening Wei Wuxian to open his mouth again. “I have tolerated your misbehavior long enough, and I will _not_ tolerate any excuses. You’ve crossed a line this time, and you _will not_ drag my family down with you!” Without giving Wei Wuxian a chance to defend himself, Madam Yu took a key from her sleeves and headed towards the door. 

Wei Wuxian scrambled to his feet when he realized what Madam Yu was doing, but she was already outside the room. “Hang on, listen for a moment--”

“I’ve already locked the window from outside. You will remain here until the Prince’s search has concluded,” she said coldly, closing the door. “I’ll figure out what to do with you afterward.”

With that, she shut and locked the door, leaving Wei Wuxian drenched in water and shadows and the weight of his regrets. He checked the window just in case, but sure enough, there was a lock holding it shut, and he couldn’t get it to budge even a centimeter.

Was that it? Wei Wuxian _had_ his chance to be honest-- with himself and Lan Wangji-- but he’d blown it, a step too late in recognizing his own feelings. Now he was being given another chance to make things right, yet he was trapped here, unable to even try.

Suddenly, he heard the locked door rattling, and a quiet _“Shit”_ that sounded quite familiar. His eyes widened, and he ran to the door.

“Jiang Cheng! Can you let me out?!”

“Be quiet, idiot,” the half-muffled voice of Jiang Cheng muttered behind the wood. “I’m trying, but it’s not budging. Mother has the only key, and trying to get it off of her is asking for death.” 

Wei Wuxian’s heart sunk, and his hand curled against the door. “No luck, huh...” he sighed, and after a second, looked up. “Are you still there, Jiang Cheng?”

“Yeah, what?” came the gruff reply. Wei Wuxian smiled despite himself.

“Is Lan Wangji really looking for me?”

“Who else in this country has a black flute with a red tassel that they’re dumb enough to lose at a ball?” Jiang Cheng snorted. He paused for a moment, and then a bit more hesitantly, he asked, “... You didn’t really do anything illegal, did you?”

“No!” Wei Wuxian said, pressing closer against the door. “Madam Yu has it all wrong! In fact, it’s a good thing he’s looking for me! If I could get the chance to see him one more time...” he trailed off, frowning as he remembered once again that he was trapped in this room with no clue how to escape.

Jiang Cheng took a deep breath and sighed loudly, reverberating against the door. “...Fine. We’ll try to help you out, idiot.”

Wei Wuxian’s heart jumped, and his eyes widened. It took him a moment to find some words. “But... couldn’t you and Shijie get in trouble?”

He could practically hear Jiang Cheng rolling his eyes behind the door as he tapped lightly on it. “I told you, I’d be pissed if you did anything to implicate us. But, even though you caused a bunch of trouble, you _did_ try your best to cover it up... And besides... what Jie said earlier is right. Even mother wouldn’t be able to say no if a fucking _Prince_ came to woo you. In fact, she’ll probably be overjoyed-- it’ll get you out of the house sooner, _and_ boost her standing if she acknowledges you as coming from our family.”

Wei Wuxian felt at a loss for words. That... actually made sense. There was no way she would listen if they tried to explain, but now that he knew his siblings would stand by him, an idea started brewing in his head.

“Thanks, A-Cheng,” he said quietly, and tapped the wood back. “I think I have a plan. We’ll have to get the timing right...”

\---

After several hours and approximately 74 houses of searching, Royal Guard Sizhui was beginning to admit to himself that maybe, just maybe, this was a _bit_ of a wild goose chase. 

Jingyi had already whispered thoughts of such about 20 houses in, but Sizhui had simply given him a look and brushed it off. He had held onto the idea that the second Prince-- the stoic, serious intellectual Lan Wangji-- knew exactly what he was doing, for over 50 more houses. But by that point, the sun was starting to set, and the only time the Prince had paused his search was for a quick lunch (only because Jingyi’s stomach had growled quite loudly, and when the Prince stopped to purchase a snack for the guards Sizhui insisted that Lan Wangji needed to eat too). And yet, there still hadn’t been a single lead. 

When they had started out, both of the guards had been rather energized for the endeavor. Especially Jingyi, ever the romantic; his eyes had lit up as he whispered to Sizhui about how excited he was to be on a quest for “forbidden love.” Sizhui had thought the Prince must have some sort of foolproof plan for finding his runaway suitor, since a flute alone wasn’t much to go on. But his certainty quickly changed to perplexion when Prince Wangji’s method became apparent.

First, he would knock on the door of each house and ask if there were any young men in the residence, and if there were, he would have them called forth. Some he would simply look over before thanking the house for their time and carrying on his way, but some he would hand the flute, and order them to play. Whether they did or not, the Prince would furrow his brow and swipe the flute back, thoroughly clean it, and it was on to the next house to repeat the process. He would occasionally stop people on the street, too, if they looked the part. As they carried on, people caught wind of the Prince’s odd house calls, and some tried to ask him questions. But he would refuse to answer anything, simply saying it was a matter of personal affairs that could not be discussed.

No matter how hard he tried, Sizhui really couldn’t understand the Prince’s process. While the builds of the men he handed the flute to were generally similar, their features varied, and even their hair was all different lengths and shades. He supposed it was possible, if not unlikely, that the man at the ball had worn a wig or some such disguise... if nothing else, Prince Wangji was admirably thorough. Still, Sizhui didn’t know what purpose the flute test served in finding the right person. Was the Prince listening for a specific song? What if the man didn’t want to be found; couldn’t he simply pretend he couldn’t play, or play something else?

Sizhui figured he would have to make the Prince return to the palace soon, before night fell. They could continue the search tomorrow... though secretly, as his feet ached and the encroaching evening chill crept through his thin guard uniform, he hoped the Prince would call it off, or at least find another method. He wanted the Prince to find his masked man, of course, but his unwavering one-track determination was starting to concern both of the guards. Jingyi was beginning to get a bit impatient, too; Sizhui noticed the restlessness in his limbs and the little changes in his expressions.

As Prince Wangji strode up to the next stop, a noble family’s manor with the nameplate _Jiang,_ Sizhui sighed. This would have to be the last one of the evening, and then he’d convince the Prince to turn home. 

Shortly after Prince Wangji knocked, the Jiang residence’s door swung open to reveal a sharp-featured woman with a gaze to match. Wasting no time, the Prince bowed and repeated the introduction Sizhui had heard over seventy times before: “Hello, Madame Jiang. I am second Prince Lan Wangji. Are there any young men currently residing in this household?”

The woman bowed respectfully, though her severe expression did not change. “Please, call me Madam Yu. It is an honor to welcome such an esteemed guest to our humble abode. My son is the only young man present, but I am certain he is not the one you are searching for.”

“Call him out,” Lan Wangji said, and the Madam bowed again.

“As you wish. Yanli, entertain our guests while I call your brother,” The Madam said to a young woman by the door, who bowed and offered the search committee a kind smile.

“Please, come in. I’ll put on some tea,” the young woman-- Jiang Yanli-- offered, but the Prince shook his head.

“Thank you, but that will not be necessary,” he said. “We will not take much of your time.”

“Of course,” she nodded. Then, leaning forward with hesitant curiosity, she asked, “Pardon me, Prince Wangji... but would it be alright for me to ask of the intention behind your search? Is the person you’re looking for in some sort of trouble?”

Prince Wangji looked down at the flute in his hand, gripping it ever so slightly tighter. “He is not in trouble,” he said, but didn’t elaborate any more than that. Sizhui held in a sigh; the Prince hadn’t given anyone a less ambiguous answer, and it would be a wonder if people _weren’t_ misconstruing the purpose of his search. However, Jiang Yanli seemed satisfied with this answer, as her face softened with relief.

“I’m glad to hear that. Then...” she looked around briefly, as if concerned she’d be overheard, and leaned in closer. “Prince Wangji, I must tell you--”

“May I present my son, Jiang Cheng.” The strong voice of Madam Yu interrupted her soft-spoken daughter, who quickly moved to the side, biting her lip. Sizhui found it curious; what was she going to say that she couldn’t finish in front of her mother?

“Your Highness,” Jiang Cheng said with a bow. He did fit the build the Prince seemed to be searching for, and sure enough, the flute was presented.

“Play,” the Prince said, and Jiang Cheng took the flute, scrunching his nose.

“Uh... is this thing clean? Who knows how many germs--” he started, but stopped as Jiang Yanli quickly elbowed his side.

“It has been cleaned properly between uses,” the Prince reassured. “Play.”

Sighing with what seemed like reluctance, Jiang Cheng held the flute up to his lips. He made eye contact with Jiang Yanli, and both nodded slightly. Then, he took a deep breath, and blew hard.

Sizhui winced slightly at the loud, sharp noise, and Jingyi covered his ears. Prince Wangji did not outwardly flinch, but he quickly took the flute back.

“Sorry,” Jiang Cheng said, unapologetically deadpan. “I don’t really know how to play.”

“Well, as should be clear from that, the person you are looking for is not at this residence,” Madam Yu said, tone clipped.

Jiang Yanli spoke up quietly, “Mother...”

Madam Yu shot her a look, but before anything more could be said, a loud banging sound came from inside the house. Sizhui and Jingyi immediately stood alert, and the Prince narrowed his gaze.

“What was that sound?” Sizhui questioned. Madam Yu frowned, dusting off her sleeve.

“Nothing of consequence, I’m sure. My husband or one of our servants must have dropped something. If our business here is settled, I’ll look into it--”

The banging came again, louder and more incessant. Listening carefully, it sounded like something repeatedly banging against glass, near the outside of the house. Sizhui and Jnigyi looked at each other and then at the Prince, who nodded.

“Pardon us, Madam, but as royal guards, it is our duty to investigate incidents of concern,” Sizhui said. “May we have a look around?”

Madam Yu’s frown deepened. “I assure you, this matter is of no _concern_ to the palace. You’ve no cause to invade my home.”

“Of course not, Madam,” Sizhui said politely. “We’d just like to check around the perimeter of your property to ensure nothing is amiss.”

Madam Yu’s frown turned into a scowl, and she stepped outside. “Very well. Then I will accompany you. You’ll find nothing worth concerning yourselves with, I assure you.”

“We apologize for the intrusion,” Sizhui said, bowing. He signaled to Jingyi to wait by the door, and the Prince took the lead, poised and alert as he swept the surroundings. Sizhui couldn’t help but admire how cool and calm the Prince was. If anyone were in need of help, Prince Wangji would always drop everything to investigate no matter what, and follow through on any inquiry with intelligence and grace.

The banging continued, and Sizhui kept his sight on Madam Yu as they grew closer. He watched as her face grew more agitated, even though her movement never faltered from imposing elegance. It didn’t take long to find the source of the noise; a window at the side of the house was rattling with force as something hit it repeatedly from inside. 

Sizhui exchanged a look with Prince Wangji and stepped ahead of him, cautiously approaching the window with a hand on his sword sheath. When he got close enough to see inside, his eyes widened with surprise.

Inside the room, a young man was banging hard on the window-- which appeared padlocked from the outside-- until he noticed Sizhui. Then his face lit up with a wide grin, and he began jumping up and down, waving his arms. There was ash smeared in splotches on his skin, and his hair and clothes looked damp; quite a bizarre appearance. 

Perplexed, Sizhui turned to Madam Yu as she and Prince Wangji approached. “Madam Yu, what is the meaning of this? You said there were no other young men in your household, yet there’s one who appears to be locked in this room?”

“I did not believe this one would be relevant to your search,” Madam Yu said, hand on her hip. “He is a servant, and the son of a deceased family friend whom we are looking after. However, he is not mentally well and did not attend the ball on any of the nights.”

Sizhui scratched his cheek, concerned. Something didn’t feel right, and even if unwell, locking someone up like this was a bit much... he looked back at the window and saw the young man trying to get Prince Wangji’s attention, who was now visible from the room. He frantically waved and pointed down at the window lock, and then brought his hands up, pantomiming like he was playing a flute. 

Prince Wangji’s gaze was locked on him, eyes slightly wide. “Let him out,” he said.

Madam Yu looked a bit taken aback. “I assure you, Your Highness, this is for the safety of both himself and others--”

“Let him out.” Prince Wangji repeated, tone more serious. Even Madam Yu wouldn’t disobey a direct order from royalty, and gritting her teeth, she took a key from her sleeves and went to unlock the window.

“Very well. Whatever happens, whatever he’s done, my family nor I have anything to do with it.” With that, she unlocked the window.

\--

Excitement flooding his body, Wei Wuxian burst out of the window the moment the lock was undone.

“PRINCE WANGJI!” he shouted as he hit the ground, almost stumbling as he propelled himself forward. “Let me play!”

He stopped in front of the Prince, and his heart lurched as he looked up at his face. This was the first time he was seeing Lan Wangji up close without a mask, at least since they were children. If possible, he was even more beautiful than Wei Wuxian imagined, features perfectly refined. His golden eyes were bright, staring at him with a glint of what Wei Wuxian could only hope was recognition. 

Silently, Lan Wangji nodded and handed him the flute. _His _flute. Feeling it in his hand again flooded him with relief, filling a void he hadn’t realized was in his chest with its absence. He smiled, and held the flute to his lips.__

__Wei Wuxian played. A song buried deep in his memory and burrowed in his heart. A song rekindled with a newfound spark, a song that had only ever been meant for one purpose. A song for him and Lan Wangji._ _

__When he finished, he looked up. Lan Wangji’s eyes were wide and shining, staring at Wei Wuxian in a mix of hope and apprehension. He hadn’t noticed while he was playing, but at some point, his siblings and the Prince’s other guard had come over. They stood behind Lan Wangji now with awestruck expressions._ _

__“I found you,” Lan Wangji said quietly, and a smile spread across Wei Wuxian’s face._ _

__“You found me,” he said, and took a step forward, wrapping his arms around Lan Wangji. It took only a moment before Lan Wangji hugged him back. When Wei Wuxian pulled away, there was still confusion evident in Lan Wangji’s gaze, and he realized he hadn’t really explained himself yet._ _

__Quickly, he held Lan Wangji by the shoulders and met his gaze. “Lan Wangji, I didn’t want to run away last night! I wanted to kiss you then, and I still really want to kiss you now!” Lan Wangji’s eyes widened, and one of the guards quietly squealed behind him. Wei Wuxian quickly continued, “I was afraid you wouldn’t like me if you knew who I really was, and I wasn’t supposed to go to the ball in the first place. But I couldn’t stay away from you, and I really don’t want to leave your side again! I really like you, Prince Wangji!”_ _

__Lan Wangji’s hand came up to cup Wei Wuxian’s cheek, hesitant and gentle. “Who you are does not matter to me. I like you for you...” he glanced away, and Wei Wuxian noticed his ears were tinged pink. “Even though I still do not know your name.”_ _

__Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but laugh, and he cupped Lan Wangji’s cheek in return. “Wei Wuxian,” he said, “Wei Ying.”_ _

__“Mm. Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, voice warm and affectionate, and Wei Wuxian’s whole body felt fuzzy and light. He leaned in and closed the distance between them, finally sealing a kiss unhindered by masks or unresolved feelings._ _

__Lan Wangji’s lips were warm and soft and eager to meet Wei Wuxian’s, flooding him with warmth and happiness. Wei Wuxian didn’t think anything could be more perfect than this. However, after a good minute of kissing, a sharp cough came from nearby, and Wei Wuxian remembered that there was an audience around them._ _

__He pulled back slightly but didn’t move his arms from around Lan Wangji’s neck, looking over to see Madam Yu with her fist held up to her mouth, expression rather baffled._ _

__“It appears that I’ve... misunderstood the situation. Are Your Highness’s intentions to officially court this servant of mine?”_ _

__Lan Wangji reluctantly pulled back and bowed deeply to Madam Yu. “Yes. I would like to court Wei Wuxian.”_ _

__“I see...” Madam Yu said, and cleared her throat, standing up straight and coming back to her usual self. “Well, as his guardian, arrangements can be made. Wei Ying is under my watch in this household, and I must ensure he is treated properly.”_ _

__Lan Wangji nodded and reached for Wei Wuxian’s hand, who took it with a giddy squeeze._ _

__“We will discuss these affairs soon. May I escort Wei Ying to the palace for the time being?” he asked, then turned to look at Wei Wuxian. “That is, if Wei Ying would like to come. I would like to speak in private.”_ _

__Wei Wuxian grinned even wider and nodded. “Of course! I mean,” he coughed, putting on his ‘noble voice,’ “I would be delighted, esteemed Prince Wangji.” He winked, and his heart stuttered as Lan Wangji gave him a small smile in return. If Wei Wuxian could see him smile like that more often, he might die, crushed under the weight of his affection._ _

__“Very well then,” Madam Yu said, bowing and moving out of the way. “I expect him to be treated well and returned by noon tomorrow.”_ _

__Lan Wangji nodded, and Wei Wuxian grinned at the Jiang siblings standing nearby. Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes, and Jiang Yanli smiled cheerfully. “Congratulations, A-Xian,” she said, and nudged Jiang Cheng in the side._ _

__“Yeah, yeah. Congrats, dumbass,” he muttered._ _

__Wei Wuxian smiled softer, genuinely thankful for his siblings. “Thank you, Shijie. Jiang Cheng.”_ _

__“Sizhui, Jingyi.” Lan Wangji called to the guards, who ran over, looking rather elated._ _

__“Yes, Prince Wangji!”_ _

__“Let’s go back quickly!”_ _

__Hand in hand, the Second Prince and the man with the black flute walked into the sunset, bathed in crimson and gold._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading so far!! There will be one more epilogue chapter that I'll finish up soon as I'm able. This has been my first long fic, and will be my first completed long-form story ever. All the kind feedback has filled me with so much happiness, thank you so much to all who have taken the time to leave a comment or kudos! <3
> 
> Feel free to say hi on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/xie1ian)


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